To the Beat of Our Noisy Hearts
by skychaser93
Summary: In the midst of war and chaos, starting in their 7th year at Hogwarts, Lily Evans and Remus Lupin learn that love can surface in the most unlikely of places, with the most unlikely of people. Lily/James and Remus/Sirius.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors' Note: This fanfic tells the story of the Marauders and those closest to them, through the eyes of Lily Evans and Remus Lupin. Every odd chapter is from Lily's perspective, while every even chapter is Remus'.**

**Please let us know what you think so far! Leave us reviews if you can!**

**Megan and Christine**

* * *

><p>The peak of summer had come and gone, and I was praying that I could survive just another month at home. With another maddeningly long month until school, I found myself frustratingly limited to the confines of my house, where Petunia seemed to be keen on either insulting me or ignoring me completely. To be honest, I couldn't say which I preferred—though the occasions where she hissed "<em>Freak<em>" at me with that narrow-eyed stare were hardly flattering, I doubted anything could be worse than the icy silence that greeted me whenever I wished her good morning, or asked about her day.

This particular day was sticky and hot, and our air conditioner was broken. Sun was beginning to trickle in through my dusty bedroom window, and my sweaty sheets were clinging to my skin, just like they had the night before. I groaned. Heat and I were never a good mix. Earlier that summer, my family and I had vacationed to the French Riviera for a week, and my fair skin still bristled at the thought of the blazing red sunburn I had received as a souvenir.

But this late July heat was unbearable. A cooling charm would have done the trick, and the wand on my bedroom desk was awfully tempting. I gazed longingly at my wand for a moment, before the rational side took hold of me. _You aren't supposed to do magic around Muggles, Lily_, a familiar stern voice rang in my ears, _even if they are your family. Besides, do you _really_ want to give Petunia another reason to be angry with you?_ Sighing, I abruptly got out of bed and headed out of my bedroom before I could change my mind.

The Muggle world was always difficult to get used to the first few weeks of the summer, but I usually had fully adjusted by now. Something about this summer was different, though. Perhaps it was the fact that the past year of school—my 6th year—was quite different than the past few years. A powerful dark wizard, who called himself Lord Voldemort, and his followers, were growing more powerful, more dangerous. People were disappearing left and right, and the entire atmosphere of Hogwarts seemed much different. No one was safe, and fear hung thick over the Wizarding World.

"Lily, sweetheart, is that you?" My mum's clear voice rang from downstairs. She must had heard me getting up.

"Yeah, Mum, I'll be down in a second!" I called back down, glancing warily back at my wand on the desk. Hastily, I opened the door to my bedroom and started down the cushy carpeted staircase.

My mum was sitting in the kitchen, her dark brown hair swept into a neat bun, and she seemed to be eyeing over the morning paper. Across from her sat Petunia, her thin lips seemingly becoming invisible as she pursed them harder when she heard me come down the stairs.

"Morning, Mum. Tuney," I said cheerfully as I snatched a piece of toast from a stack that was sitting on the counter.

"Good morning, dear," My mum smiled at me, her piercing green eyes glancing up from the newspaper to greet me. "Sleep well?"

I nodded, applying liberal amounts of butter to my toast. "Very well, except for the heat. If only I could use my wand, I'd be able to fix it in a moment…"

Petunia scoffed loudly, and I looked over at her, but her eyes were locked intently on her piece of toast.

The three of us sat in silence for a few moments, my mum looking concernedly at the paper and Petunia having a staring contest with her buttered toast.

"Anything interesting in the paper today, Mum?" I asked, getting up to rinse my plate off in the sink.

"Well…" she began. Even though she wasn't facing me, I could read the concern in her voice instantly. Quickly, I sat back down at the table.

"What is it?" I asked, trying to control the note of panic creeping into my voice.

"More strange disappearances," she said, frowning. "Here it says a man just completely vanished…Sebastian Jones, aged twenty one…"

"Sebastian Jones?" I said sharply. "He went to Hog—my school," I said with emphasis, looking pointedly at Petunia. "He's the older brother of a girl in my year, Hestia."

My mum's frown deepened. "Poor girl…her mother must be terrified…"

"Yeah," I said slowly, thinking of Hestia and wondering what it must be like, to lose a sibling. _Well then, of course_, I thought sadly to myself as Petunia stood up to clear off her plate without so much as glancing as me, _You sort of already know what it's like._

"I'm heading over to Vernon's, Mum" Petunia said airly, without so much as glancing at me. "I'll be back a little later." Swiftly, she walked out the front door and the faint start of an engine told me that she was gone.

"Anything else in there?" I asked, trying to ignore Petunia's icy behavior.

"I'm afraid so," My mum said, her voice dropping to nearly a whisper. "A whole family found, dead. A mother and father and a little girl. Causes unknown."

My whole body started, and a voice I barely recognized as my own asked, "What were their names?"

Her eyes scanned the page. "Hughes. Evelyn, David, and the little girl was Marcie."

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to picture anyone with the name of 'Hughes,' but my mind drew a blank. _They must have been Muggles_, I realized with a sinking feeling. It was bad enough when the Death Eaters killed off Wizards for refusing to join them, but it seemed they had moved on to killing innocent Muggles. My face swelled with heat and anger. _A little girl?_

"You don't think this was…?" My mum began, her voice quavering a bit. I gave a curt nod, and her face crumpled. "Lily, maybe it's not the best idea if you go back…at least until it's safer…" She looked at me with pleading eyes.

I looked at her warily. We had this conversation before. "Mum, you know I have to go back. I can't leave—my friends—they're in danger, everyone's in danger. I can't leave Alice or Emmeline—or Remus!"

My mum's face turned stony. "And what about us, Lily? How can you expect us to just...to just ship you off to school like nothing's wrong?" Her voice was shaking now, and she looked like she was fighting back tears. "You say everyone's in danger—you know that doesn't just mean your friends! It means you, too!"

"I'm aware of that, thank you," I replied coldly. "But, as I've told you repeatedly—it's much safer for me to be at Hogwarts than here, which is why—" I looked at my mom, taking a deep breath. "—which is why I think you and Dad and Tun—Petunia should really consider going into hiding. Or at least take advantage of Dumbledore's protection!"

Mum waved her hand impatiently at me. "We can't just up and leave, Lily. We have responsibilities—your father and I. We don't have unlimited money, we…we have to keep doing our jobs. We have to keep working. But Lily, dear—" The quiver in her voice now took on a tone of begging. She looked at me, every line in her face expressing fear. "If you could just stay with us, we could at least see you…know that you're safe…protect you…"

"Mum," I held up a hand, stopping her. "You can't protect me anymore. Not against this. This stuff—it's dark magic, Mum. Darker than you—than I—can possibly comprehend. But if I just sit at home, uneducated and unprotected, trying to dodge a couple Killing Curses thrown my way—I'll be the one in the next Sunday paper, cause of death unknown. I need to be out there. Not yet, not until I finish school but—that's where I'm heading, Mum. I'm going to help stop him. It's—it's what I need to do."

There was a moment of heated silence between us, and I could feel my heart pounding louder against my rib cage. Her eyes were sparkling with tears, and her lips pursed tight. She looked a bit like Petunia, which was to say, frightful. She opened her mouth and for a moment I thought she was going to scream at me or maybe even hit me. I wasn't prepared for her to burst into tears—loud, noisy sobs, as she gasped for breath and said "We—" she sniffed, "Your dad and I—we're just—so—proud—"

I got up immediately and wrapped my arms around her, as she cried loudly into my shoulder. I patted her on the back until I heard her breath start to even. She pulled away, and looked at me, her green eyes red and wet.

"Be careful," she whispered, as I wiped a tear from her cheek. "Please, Lily, promise me you'll be careful."

I nodded silently, and a slow smile crept on to her face. "You've grown so much, Lily." She placed a stray red curl behind my ear, and kissed my forehead, before standing up. "I'm going to go find your father, dear. It's nearly twelve and he promised he'd go to the market today to pick up some groceries."

I followed her up the stairs, but turned into my room instead of continuing to the end of the hallway where my dad was sleeping. I plopped down on the bed, and looked around the room, and began to think.

_Mum never gets that emotional over anything_, I mused, leaning back on my bed. _Perhaps she and Dad really do understand that…well…I might not come back here. _I was trying to push the thought out of my head when a familiar loud screech came from my window. In a split second, a large, regal looking onyx colored owl stood perched at my windowsill, carrying a rolled up _Daily Prophet_ and two small letters.

Although I was desperate for news, I immediately tossed aside the _Prophet_ onto my bed. The Ministry was keen on making it seem as though the whole Death Eater situation was under the Ministry's control, and the _Prophet_ basically catered to the Ministry's beck and call. So, knowing the _Prophet_ would be frustratingly sparse of any real news, I looked to my letters.

One was written in familiar handwriting—Alice's, it was safe to assume. I couldn't help but smile, although I did feel a twinge of sadness that I hadn't seen my best friend in almost three weeks. The last time that she had Apparated into my house gave Tuney such a fright, I thought she'd nearly wet herself. And shortly after that, she'd gone on holiday with her family to Morocco, and had surely been busy tanning on the beach while her family tried desperately to behave like Muggles.

But the other letter caught my eye—a slanted, messy scrawl that I couldn't quite place. And though I was desperate to hear if Alice had any news, curiosity took hold of me, and I quickly opened the second letter.

_Evans,_

_Miss me yet? I'm sure the past month without me has been absolutely excruciating, so I won't write too much about my summer (wouldn't want to make your longing for me any worse, eh, Evans?) other than that Padfoot and I are officially housemates—I got him to write your name on the back of this letter so that you'd open it. Moony and Pete are here visiting for the next week or so, so do feel free to drop by and grace us all with your lovely presence._

_James_

_P.S. Hexing someone via post is extremely unkind…luckily I got Wormtail to open your last letter for me._

I hissed with annoyance as I threw aside Potter's obnoxious note. Of _course_ he enlisted Black in his never-ending quest to badger me into going out with him. While every girl in the school seemed to throw themselves at Potter's feet, I knew better. The only reason he kept chasing me was because I was the _only_ one who said no, and I certainly wasn't going to give into his childish tactics of trying to gain my attention.

Thoroughly annoyed, I picked up Alice's letter, hoping to find something a little less…infuriating in her letter.

_Lily!_

_This past week has been absolutely fantastic! We went to the Ministry's embassy the other day, and got recommendations to all of the tourist attractions for magic folk. Yesterday we went to this beautiful enchanted forest that had this lovely river with this absolutely stunning waterfall—we went down it on boats that had this special sort of charm on it, and didn't even get wet! It was absolutely fantastic._

_The Muggle beaches are lovely, as well, although it would be much more fun if you were here. Luckily there are enough attractive Muggle boys around to keep me entertained! Speaking of boys, I've been exchanging letters with Frank Longbottom quite frequently…he might visit me sometime while we're here, which would be quite lovely._

_Anyway, tell me more about what's going on at home? Is Petunia still awful? You do know that you're a witch, right? Meaning you can Apparate just about anywhere you'd like…_

_I must get going, but I miss you so much Lils! Keep me posted on what's going on at home. I haven't had much time to keep up with the news._

_Love,_

_Alice_

I laughed as I tucked her letter safely into my desk drawer, and pulled out a bit of spare parchment to begin to write her back. I was very interested to hear more about Frank Longbottom, and how she slipped him into her letter so cavalierly…

But she didn't know any news. My heart sank a little, knowing that she was one of my few connections to the rest of the Wizard world while I was at home. Not that my parents forbade me from seeing them—oh, no, it wasn't like that at all. But, my parents missed having me around while I was at Hogwarts, and for all I knew my time with them was limited. _Lily, stop,_ I scolded myself_, it hasn't come to that yet. Don't think that way._

Still, I was desperate to hear more than the lies of the _Prophet._ I looked blankly at the piece of parchment before a lightbulb went off in my head. Of course—Remus!

Quickly, I began to compose my letter, hopeful that I'd be able to get it to him by the end of the day if I wrote quickly enough.

_Dear Remus,_

_How are you? I hope you're summer's been quite well! Though I daresay if Potter is keeping you hostage at his house, it isn't likely._

_My summer has been exceptionally dull thus far. Mum and Dad are reminding me every moment they can that they think I'm a nutter for wanting to go back to Hogwarts this fall, and Petunia thinks I'm a nutter regardless. Needless to say, I'm anxious to get back, although things have been much quieter around here._

I set down my quill for a moment, wondering how I should phrase the next half of my letter. I didn't want to seem _too_ concerned—although, of course I was—but I couldn't have him worrying for me, either. My friends were already overly concerned about me, as a Muggle Born, and I didn't want him to think that _I_ was worried as well.

_I've been trying to keep up with some of the Muggle news, as the _Daily Prophet _is pretty much rubbish these days. Disappearances and deaths, everywhere…even my Mum is starting to worry. I reckon it's him, but I am shocked as to how he can attack so…out in the open. A Muggle family? A little girl?_

_I'm wondering if you've heard anything, anything at all…I'm just a bit cut off here and Alice is vacationing in Morocco for the rest of the week._

_Anyway, Remus, let me know about your summer, and how you are! Your letters are always my favorite to read._

_Love from,_

_Lily_

_P.S. Tell your friend, Potter, that if he isn't careful I might just have to come over and hex him in person._

I read over the letter once more, hoping that I didn't sound too concerned. Hopefully Remus wouldn't try to read between the lines, although I knew from experience that he always did. Carefully, I folded the letter, and wrote his name carefully on the outside of the parchment.

"Zephyr," I said to my beautiful owl, perched expectantly on my window sill, "Find Remus and give this to him, will you? I expect he'll be at…James Potter's house." I shuddered, and looked apologetically at Zephyr, who would inevitably have to deal with Potter.

Zephyr took the letter in his beak, hooted gently as I pet his head, and fluttered gracefully out the window. _Hopefully Remus will write quickly_, I thought as I flopped back on my bed. The temperature was beginning to rise again, and the heat was making me very tired. I shut my eyes for a moment and felt myself slowly drift into sleep…

I woke with a start, nearly jumping out of bed. The sun was still outside my window, so I glanced at the clock—only 3:30? I'd been asleep only an hour, and I wondered what could have woken me. But then, I heard it again—an ear-splitting scream coming just from downstairs. I jumped out of bed and bounded out of my bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

Thunder boomed; its echo rumbled through the ground, through the thick walls of the house, up through the floor, so that the dim lamplight flickered even dimmer. I strained my eyes, examining the small text with difficulty, until, frustrated, I turned over onto my back with a huff and set the book down.

In truth, I easily could have turned on a second light or conjured the necessary luminescence, but my wand was all the way across the room in the pocket of my trousers, and I had little desire to wake the Potters from their restful sleep after they had so gratefully taken me in, and even less desire to risk giving James, Sirius, or Peter any excuse to bother me.

The hands of my watch, as far as I could tell in the dark, were attempting to inform me that it wouldn't be long before I needn't worry about waking the others for they'd surely be up and about making breakfast before long. I'd grown accustomed to hearing the others awaken just as I drifted off, counting on Sirius to be pouncing on my bed long before troubled dreams began to stir in the back of my tired mind. He had not yet failed.

The crescent moon cloaked in clouds just outside me window should have put me at ease, but my nightmares had not waned with the moon this month. I had barely accepted James' invitation to visit his family's summer home with him and the others, only forced by Sirius' entreating pleas and, ultimately, threats.

I pulled the leather-bound tome up onto my chest, letting its reliable weight set my troubles at ease. Perhaps, if I closed my eyes for just a moment, kept my thoughts anchored to the story in my hands, my dreams wouldn't wander to the bloodshed Mr. Potter wearily recounted when he returned from the ministry each evening.

_Tap tap._

The bedraggled owl hovering outside my window glared at me as only owls can. _Let me in, you twat, _its wide eyes blazed.

I sighed, wondering if staying in bed was worth the possible loss of finger I was likely to experience when the poor thing finally found its way inside.

He shook his inky feathers pointedly when I finally shoved the window open, as if he wanted to see just how much water he could land on my face, my jumper, my pillow, if he could freeze me out with the chilled rain. He dropped the letter with disdain, right on top of my book with a wet plop. Then, he stretched his wing out and snapped at my ear.

"Zephyr?"

He looked disappointed that it had taken me that long.

"Lily send you out in this rain?"

With one look at the letter I added, "And without a drying spell on her parchment? I thought she was brighter than that."

It occurred to me, somewhere in the back of my thoughts, as I treaded across the floor to retrieve my trousers, that perhaps it wasn't raining where Lily was.

I tapped the letter dry, hoping the ink hadn't run too much, and as a second thought tapped the owl dry as well until he hopped to the desk to gleefully preen his feathers.

"You're free to the owl treats, if you'd like," I told him. "If I'm not mistaken, the bag's still open."

That said, I turned my attention to Lily's delicate handwriting, fairly preserved all things considered.

_Dear Remus, _

_How are you? I hope your summer's been quite well. Though I daresay if Potter is keeping you hostage at his house it isn't likely._

I snorted, involuntarily, at her contempt. Not that I didn't understand the sentiment. _Sometimes, _she had once told me, _I think you're only friends with them to fill some sort of masochistic quota you have set for yourself._

_My dear, _I had responded, _I believe I fill that quota easily without them._

Upstairs, a floorboard creaked.

I silently cursed Lily – my laughter must have woken someone, and all I could do was pray, pray for my life that that someone wasn't-

"'Morning, Mooney! You're up early."

"Late," I corrected him as he bounded across the floor. He didn't seem to hear.

He also didn't seem to hear my objections as he tackled me to the bed with a great leap, mussing my hair, nearly smothering me to death to stop my protestations. His bare chest was warm, almost hot, and I thought vaguely to myself that the only way I wouldn't suffocate was if my body overheated and shut down before my lungs had finally run out of oxygen.

"Sirius," I gasped, finally managing to push some of his weight off me and onto the mattress. "Get _off."_

"Ow. Were you reading? Just pushed me onto some great ruddy book."

"You got hair in my mouth."

"Have you been reading since we left you here last night?"

"Of course not," I lied.

"Is that Evans' owl! Have you been writing Evans! Oh, Prongs has got to hear of this. Where's the letter? Come on now, let me see it, Mooney, there's a boy."

I hadn't handed him the letter. He had pried it from my fingers.

"Give it here."

"Hostage?" His tone was one of incredulous outrage, of indignation, raising in pitch, in timbre, and in loudness just enough that he may have woken the entire house. "We're not keeping you _hostage. _You came willingly, for the most part."

"May I have my letter, Sirius? I haven't even read it yet."

"Fine, you great bore. Have you got anything to eat in here? I"m starving."

I set Lily's letter aside to read whenever I could find a few moments of peace, hoping it wasn't urgent because who knew when that would be. Hours, possibly days from now.

Sirius was now standing at the foot of the bed, arms over his head, stretching out his long torso with a gaping yawn, pulling the waistband of his pyjamas lower on his hips, and I threw a pillow it him and averted my eyes.

"Put some clothes on."

He smirked at me and began to rummage through my trunk, pulling out shirts and jumpers until he found one big enough for him. "Better?"

"I meant your own, but I suppose that will suffice. Are James and Peter up yet?"

"Of course not. James was muttering something to himself about gingers, and Peter's a great lump, so it's just you and me for now." He glanced out the window and continued, "I can't tell if it' sunrise yet or not with all this rain, but I think it's a bit early to wake them, don't you?"

I took a deep breath, rubbed my temple with one hand.

"You okay?"

It was just then that I realized how tired I was, how my eyes were floating closed and my head throbbed.

"Fine."

"Want I should make us some tea?"

I nodded, closing my eyes. He got up off the bed and sprung across the room to the door, and when I heard the door creak and drift shut, I retrieved Lily's letter from the desk and sat down to read it.

She was worried. More than worried, properly terrified, and ashamed if I was reading the letter correctly. Her words carved a delicate, careful mask of curiosity to cover the anxiety, the kind she only cared to craft when her fear itself frightened her more than whatever was truly troubling her. I rummaged through the mess atop the desk for a spare piece of parchment and a quill that Peter hadn't sat on, and started to write.

_Dear Lily, _

_You'll be pleased to hear that James has finally stopped talking about you in his sleep. I can't say as much for when he is awake, but it's a start, no? I, on the other hand, am as tortured as ever. Each day is a struggle not to end my life in his presence. He and Sirius have my chained in the wine cellar and feed me scraps off the dinner table when they are feeling charitable. Save me, Lily Evans, your hexes are my only hope! By the time you read this letter, I may be dead!_

_In all honesty, the summer has been relatively uneventful. I'm spending what time I can reading and what time I can't praying not to be on the wrong side of whatever mischief the others plan. Mr. Potter has been keeping us filled in on everything happening at the Ministry. The poor man – I can't imagine how difficult things must be for Aurors right now. I think, were I him, I'd retire and fill a teaching position at Hogwarts or something a bit less dangerous. (On second thought, the pranks of my friends may in truth be a worser fate than anything this Lord Voldemort can muster for his enemies.)_

_How is Alice doing? Has Frank finally come around? I've been dying to know for months when he'd finally muster the courage... some Gryffindor, right?_

_Give your parents my best, and tell your owl not to bite my next time you send him!_

I stopped my hand to turn and scowl at the bird, and added,

_And teach him better table manners. My book is now covered in owl treats. _

_All my love,_

_Remus_

_P.S. You're free to come visit me, you know. I'm positive James would be fine with it, and the rest of us would love to see you._

I folded the letter, cast a few absent-minded charms, and prodded the bird, who had drifted off, with the corner of the parchment.

"Give this to Lily, Zephyr, okay?"

The bird hopped to the window and looked back at me, as if saying, Really? No, I had thought I'd fly your letter to Dumbledore.

I shut the window after the owl and stood up, stretching my legs out carefully and treading to the door.

I found Sirius at the kitchen table, a Daily Prophet in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. He looked up when he heard me on the stairs, and gestured to the tea at the seat opposite him. I sat and took a sip, waiting for him to speak.

He didn't for a long while. My tea was almost cold by the time he set aside the paper, drained the rest of his tea, and looked up at me, his eyes full of an unfamiliar sense of confusion and anxiety.

"What is it?"

"My aunt is in the paper. Arrested for killing a muggle-born witch."

"Oh God," I started, but I didn't know what to say to ease him. At that moment, I would have given anything to have him looking like mischief and joy again, as he had upstairs. I would have let him tackle me a thousand times over this odd stillness, anything but calm.

His hand trembled. I wanted to reach over and take it, stop its shaking.

Instead, I watched as he curled it into a fist.

"I'm not going back to that house. Never. Nothing anyone says can make me. I've brought all my things, my trunk, my robes. I took out what money I could last time I was at Gringotts, I've set up my own account and everything. Mr. and Mrs. Potter said I could stay here as long as I needed. They don't control me anymore."

I nodded, unable to speak. He stood, leaving his cup and the paper, and walked outside, into the rain, a soft growl making it clear that he did not want me to follow.

I finished my tea in solitary silence, sitting at the table long after the dregs in the bottom had gone cold, the storm had stopped enough to let the sun rise, and Mr. Potter had left for work. Sirius still had not returned.


	3. Chapter 3

I didn't sleep well that night at all, perhaps because of the short nap I had taken earlier, perhaps because of the heat—most likely, though, because of what I found awaiting me downstairs when I had awoken from my nap.

_I grabbed my wand and bounded down the stairs, my heart beating loudly against my chest. I moved quietly, stealthily, down the steps, listening carefully as I approached the bottom steps._

_Another scream. This one I recognized as my mother's. Although it didn't exactly sound like a scream of terror…more like a squeal…_

_Brow furrowed, I stepped out onto the wood floor and made my way towards the living room, where my mum and Petunia were embracing, and my dad looked like he was about to be sick._

_I cleared my throat. "Er…what's going on?" I asked, wand hanging limply at my side._

"_Oh Lily, dear—your sister's going to be married!" My mum said, breaking from her embrace. She grabbed Petunia's left hand and shoved it up to her face level, so I could see the large sparkly diamond ring on her finger. Petunia stood silent next to her, with just the faintest trace of a smile on her face._

_My throat swelled up. "Congratulations, Tuney," I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Apparently, either my face or my voice betrayed me, as Petunia merely sneered at me, marching out of the living room with her nose in the air._

"_Did…I say something?" I asked, spinning around to watch Petunia huff up the stairs._

"_Lily," My mum said, her voice close to shrill, "You could try to be _happy_ for your sister. She's to be married!"_

"_I _am_ happy for her, Mum," I said, putting my hands on my hips. "But don't expect me to be running around skipping for joy that she's marrying _Vermin_—"_

_My dad let out a loud snort, and my mother shot him a meaningful look. "Lily, what did I say about calling him that?"_

"_Sorry, sorry…"_

When I woke the next morning, part of me wished it had been a dream. Not that there weren't worse people in the world that my sister could marry, but Vernon Dursley was hardly the Prince Charming she used to dream about when we played fairies in the backyard so many years ago. He was loud, rude, and altogether dim-witted, and had a temper even shorter than mine. When he got really angry, such as when I walked in on Tuney and him snogging once, his face blotched purple and red and he sputtered incoherently. He was fairly vile.

I leaned back in my bed, stretching my hands over my head as I looked out the window. Zephyr still hadn't returned from the night before, which was very strange indeed. I had left my bedroom window open for him, in the hopes that he might return in the middle of the night, but his food and water dishes remained untouched, and he was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, I got up, made my bed, and got dressed for the day. Until Zephyr returned, there was no escape to the Wizarding world, and I would be limited to the confines of my dull home once again. Only this time, with Petunia's marriage looming over the house.

When I walked downstairs and into the kitchen, Petunia was the only one sitting at the table. She was looking down at a book in her hand, concentrated intensely. I had to smile. Our love of reading was one of the few things that Petunia and I had in common anymore. I missed the days when we were children and would stay up late in her room, under her covers with a flashlight in my hand, as we read each other stories from a large fairy tale book my Mum had given us for Christmas. She had been so willing to believe in magic, then—_wished_, more than anything, that it could be real. _But then, once she found out it was, I suppose it lost the appeal_, I thought bitterly.

"Morning, Tuney," I chirped, pouring myself a generous bowl of cereal. "I expect Verm—_Vernon_ will be over here today, right?"

Petunia stiffened, but didn't take her eyes off the book. She turned a page.

"Look, Tunes, I know that he and I haven't exactly got on very well before, but…truly, I am happy for you. And I'm sure—" I swallowed a bite of cereal, hoping that I sounded sincere, because I did really mean what I was saying, "I'm sure that if you really love him enough to marry him that I just, er—need to get to know him a little better."

There was silence for a moment, and Petunia lifted her icy blue eyes from the page. Her eyes were narrowed, her jaw set tight in her mouth, and his impossibly thin lips were, once again, disappearing from her face.

"If I _really_ love him enough to marry him? Is that what you think this is? You think this is just—just a _game_ or something—?"

"No! no —Tuney—no, that's not—that's not what I meant at all, I was trying—"

"You were _trying_ to make everything about _you_, once again," she said shrilly, her voice growing louder. She began to rise from the table. "You think I'm marrying him to _spite_ you! I hear what you call him—behind his back—I _know_ what you think of him, Lily, and _I DON'T CARE!"_ Her voice had grown louder and her face turned a bright scarlet sort of color. I felt my heart sink.

"Tuney, I—"

"Don't CALL me that!" she screeched, the vein in her neck throbbing wildly as she glared at me, every inch of her face indicating anger. Now it was my turn to stiffen.

"Fine. _Petunia_," I said with sardonic emphasis. "It's very _plain_ to me that you don't care about what I think of Ver—Vernon, since he's absolute rubbish to me all the time. He treats me like I'm—like I'm some sort of—"

"Freak?" Petunia sneered, with an evil little smirk on his face. "He knows all about you, Lily. I had to tell him, didn't I? When we started to get—more serious, I told him, and you know what, Lily?" Her face took on a hard stare. "He said he always knew something was—abnormal about you. He'd thought it might have been a mental illness or something." I stared at her incredulously, my jaw nearly hitting the floor.

"How—how dare you—?" I sputtered, feeling my forehead and the tip of my ears turn red. "I was nothing but perfectly _civil_ to him at first—"

"It doesn't matter," Petunia said, her smirk dropping her face back into blankness. "He said he'd be willing to look past it—be willing to look past _you_, I mean."

I shoved my chair into the table, walked briskly over to the sink and shoved my bowl in it, before spinning around to face her.

"Lucky you," I whispered, my face barely an inch away from hers. I spun on my heel and stomped up the steps, hoping that Petunia wouldn't be able to hear the small sob that I couldn't help but let escape from my lips.

I spent the next few hours shut up in my room with the door locked, poured over my Transfiguration book. I had already finished the required reading, but figured that I may as well read ahead to get more familiar with some of the more complicated spells. After all, this was our NEWT year, and Transfiguration was my worst subject (although, I did still get an 'Exceeds Expectations' on my OWL, as I had found out a few weeks earlier.)

Around one o'clock and then again around seven, my Mum knocked on my door to call me to lunch and dinner, but each time I protested that I wasn't hungry. Of course, I was, but I couldn't bear the thought of seeing Petunia again that day, and so I tried to assuage my rumbling stomach by promising myself that I would sneak down to the kitchen for some food after everyone else had gone to bed.

About an hour after Mum called me down to dinner, I heard a familiar hoot and rustle of feathers outside my window, and stood up from my schoolwork at once. Zephyr glided magnificently onto my window sill, proudly brandishing two new letters. My heart leapt with excitement at the possibility of a distraction from Petunia's awful sneer that kept playing over and over in my mind.

I patted Zephyr on the head and handed him a treat, before excitedly tearing open the first letter, written in Remus' regal script.

_Dear Lily,_

_You'll be pleased to hear that James has finally stopped talking about you in his sleep. I can't say as much for when he is awake, but it's a start, no? I, on the other hand, am as tortured as ever. Each day is a struggle not to end my life in his presence. He and Sirius have my chained in the wine cellar and feed me scraps off the dinner table when they are feeling charitable. Save me, Lily Evans, your hexes are my only hope! By the time you read this letter, I may be dead!_

I chuckled as I read the start of Remus' letter. He must have truly been enjoying himself at Potter's house, as I knew there was just recently a full moon, and he must have been completely exhausted. He had confided in me once that, of all the broken bones and bruises he had suffered from with his adventures with Potter and Black, that he had never experienced anything as painful as his monthly transformations. Sympathy welled inside of me as I continued to read his letter.

_In all honesty, the summer has been relatively uneventful. I'm spending what time I can reading and what time I can't praying not to be on the wrong side of whatever mischief the others plan. Mr. Potter has been keeping us filled in on everything happening at the Ministry. The poor man – I can't imagine how difficult things must be for Aurors right now. I think, were I him, I'd retire and fill a teaching position at Hogwarts or something a bit less dangerous. (On second thought, the pranks of my friends may in truth be a worser fate than anything this Lord Voldemort can muster for his enemies.)_

I paused for a moment, and read over his paragraph again, a frown on my face. _"Mr. Potter has been keeping us filled in on everything happening at the Ministry."_ What did that mean? What things happening at the Ministry? Didn't he know that I was shut up here without any real source of news? I scanned the rest of his letter quickly, but there wasn't so much as a scrap of news. My eyebrows furrowed. Was he keeping things from me? I wondered if he had sensed my worry in my letter, and if perhaps that was the reason for his jokes—to put me at ease?

Frowning and still lost in my thoughts, I opened my other letter, and sighed. Another one from Potter.

_Oi, Evans!_

_You can't just keep ignoring my letters! I spend hours a day trying to craft the perfect letter, and you don't even respond? I'm heartbroken!_

_Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Evans, but we'd all like to see you. Especially Mooney—I saw him writing those love letters to you the other day— the git! Sirius and I reckon he hasn't been sleeping properly since he's been here—I expect he's pining away after you, night after night._

_But to be honest, Evans—who wouldn't?_

_James_

I huffed in annoyance as I tossed Potter's letter aside, but did smile a bit. My correspondence with Remus must have been absolutely infuriating to him, especially since I had yet to respond to his twenty-some letters he had sent me since the start of summer. Except for once, when I sent back a rather impolite phrase with a Bat-Bogey Hex attached to it—I would have to remember to apologize to Peter for that.

But one thing in James' letter was sticking with me, and perplexed me a bit. Remus wasn't sleeping? Surely, after his transformation, he would be physically weakened…he needed his sleep. I wondered what could have been plaguing his thoughts since I was sure it was not, as James so crudely suggested, me. Remus and I were merely friends—quite good friends, I might add. Not that I didn't find him extremely handsome—one would have to be blind not to find his angular jaw, big bright eyes, and genuine smile attractive—but we had never had romantic feelings for one another. No, we were perfect as friends.

I sat back down at my desk and pulled out a bit of spare parchment, dipping my feather quill in the ink pot beside me, and began to write.

_Dear Remus,_

_Glad to hear that Potter has finally started to wise up, although his frequent letters don't indicate any chance of him ceasing to try to thoroughly annoy me before school begins._

_Sorry to hear about the unbearable torture, although I do hope they're at least feeding you properly—from the looks of Black, he must need to eat five times a day to keep those muscles of his from deflating._

_Glad to hear that Mr. Potter is keeping you all informed, although I daresay I would love to hear a bit of news about what's going on with the Ministry. If there's anything at all you can tell me (although do be careful, as owls are being intercepted left and right) I would be most gracious to hear it._

_I do hope that you're taking care of yourself, Remus. It takes a lot of strength to deal with the lot you're with now, so I hope that you're resting and not pushing yourself beyond your limits._

_Anyway, you must help me devise a plan to get your dear friend Potter from pestering my poor owl with his obnoxious letters._

_Love from,_

_Lily_

Dotting the final 'i' in my name, I read over the letter once more, hoping that perhaps this one would be able to squeeze a bit of news out of Remus. But, as I read over the final sentence of my letter, a stroke of pure brilliance came to me, and I quickly pulled out another piece of parchment from my desk and began writing.

_My dear Remus,_

_Every day without your presence makes my heart weep, and I can only look forward to those days when we can be together at last—at Hogwarts. Our secret romance has been burdening me ever since we kissed so passionately goodbye that final day of school, with the promise that we would soon meet again. And yet, though the secrecy weighs heavy on my mind, I find myself unable to bear the thought of one more moment of my life without you._

_Do come and visit me soon, my love._

_Love forever and always,_

_Your Lily_

Smirking, I went back to my first letter and added a hasty post-script.

_P.S. Make sure Potter finds the second letter I've sent with Zephyr._

I walked over to the window sill, where Zephyr lay sunning himself, his black feathers glistening as the sunlight hit them.

"Zephyr," I cooed, handing him another treat, "Once you rest a bit, take these back to Remus. You needn't stop in Morocco, so this trip should be much, much shorter. And Zephyr—" I said, handing him the two letters, "Make sure he reads this one first." I pointed at the real letter. Zephyr blinked twice at me, took the letters in his beak, and soared off towards the horizon.

I smirked softly to myself. This was going to be good.


	4. Chapter 4

Sirius hadn't returned by lunch. He hadn't returned by dinner. The storm still raged on outside, and from my room I watched the waves tearing at the shore, but by late evening, when the others were starting to yawn, there was still no sign of him.

When James, rubbing his eyes viciously with the heels of his hands, his glasses dangling precariously from one ear, had descended the stairs to greet me good morning I had tossed him the Daily Prophet, still open to the article that had left Sirius in such a state, and told him I wasn't feeling well, wanted to be left alone for a bit. Thus, I had spent the day in my room, with only the occasional glance down at the book in my lap, the majority of my focus on the ground outside, searching for any sign of a man or a black dog.

My stomach was tied in knots too uncomfortable to even think of eating, and when Peter had brought me a chocolate frog and stern instructions to feel better, I had left the gift untouched on the bed where he had dropped it.

When my watch read ten, I threw my book across the room, where it missed my trunk and landed on the floor with a great thud.

"Mooney?"

James peeked in the door, uncharacteristically unobtrusive.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure."

He sat down on the bed and scratched the back of his head, as if unsure of where to begin.

"Yes?"

"Sirius is back."

My head reeled. Back? My eyes had been glued to the front door for any sign of his return for hours; how could I have missed him?

"He just apparated into the kitchen. He's..." James trailed off, his eyes drifting down to the floor, away from mine.

"He's what, James?"

James bit his lip. I was completely unaccustomed to this sort of hesitant behaviour from him – he had never been one to hold back anything, always said exactly what was on his mind.

"Please," I urged, my heart racing with concern.

"He's not in great shape. Mum's tending to him now, but-"

"But _what?" _I wanted to lean forward, take his shoulders, and shake the news out of him, whatever it was.

"Well, he's not exactly conscious."

He hadn't finished the sentence before I was on my feet, rushing down the stairs as fast as my tired legs would take me. My mind was empty, completely still, numb with nothing but James' words ringing in my ears, trying to comprehend them and put them together into a coherent thought. _Sirius... Mum's tending to him... not exactly conscious... _

My knees must have given out from under me because one moment I was aware of seeing Mrs. Potter stooping over a figure on the floor, and the next I was on the same level as Sirius, my face inches from his bloody face, my hands shaking, grabbing at his shirt – my shirt, I reminded myself remotely, though so covered in blood that it wouldn't have been recognizable as my own had it not been so threadbare that it couldn't possibly have been anyone else's.

His face was bruised, his lip bleeding, and his chest was torn apart as if he'd been attacked by some sort of animal. I gulped. _As if he'd been attacked by me._

He opened his eyes a bit and looked up, glassy-eyed and far away. I bit back the words that rose instantly to my lips.

"Remus, dear." Mrs. Potter's voice was faint, cautionary. "I need you to let me through."

A strong hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back away from Sirius, and James' face obscured my vision of, though I could still here Mrs. Potter uttering quiet, songlike spells behind him.

James put his hand softly on the side of my face. "Mooney, buddy, come on, he's going to be fine." His brown eyes blurred in my vision, and he turned behind him. I heard him mumble, "Peter, get some chocolate," before turning back to me and slapping me, hard across my face, twice.

Mrs. Potter got up, and I heard a low, throaty cough as Sirius sat up, leaning back on his elbows, and looked down at his chest. He lifted the torn jumper and examined his skin with admiration. "Excellent work, Mrs. Potter," he declared weakly.

"You're lucky the cuts weren't so deep," she told him. "Didn't leave a single scar. Here, drink this."

She handed him a cup and helped him off the floor and into a chair at the table. He sat and looked around the room until his eyes fell on me.

"Jesus, Mooney. I'm okay. No need to be so gay about it."

It wasn't until he addressed me that I was suddenly horribly aware of what I must have looked like. Huddled on the floor, clutching the hem of my shirt to stop my arms from trembling, my face red and wet.

"What the bloody hell _happened?"_ I rose from the ground, still shaking, and walked towards him. "You leave me at five this morning to disappear for the entire day, show up here covered in your own blood, and tell me I'm _being gay _about this?"

"For the record, a lot of the blood isn't mine."

Peter scampered up to my side. "Remus? H-here. I got you a chocolate frog."

I took the frog and ripped the package open, wanting to apologize to Peter for the near violence with which I had snatched it from him, and stormed into the next room. I had thought the image of Sirius' face weak and covered in blood would be the one that stuck with me, but all I could see was a condescending smirk.

For once, not even chocolate could ease my troubled thoughts.

After a few moments, Peter followed me into the room.

"Remus, are you okay? James is yelling at Sirius, telling him not to be such an arse, right now, I promise." He sat beside me and nudged my shoulder hesitantly with his. "I was worried about Sirius, too. Really, I was. I thought he was dead when he first appeared. Practically scared me out of my wits. I was just sitting there eating a bowl of soup and suddenly there was a man covered in blood staring at me from across the table. Nearly wet myself, I did."

I couldn't help but laugh a little, and his face broke into a grin as well.

"Better?" he asked.

"Better," I told him. It wasn't entirely a lie, either.

After a minute, Sirius reluctantly stepped through the doorway, James pushing him from behind.

"'M sorry, Mooney," he mumbled.

Before I could respond, Mrs. Potter stepped in and said, "Remus? There's an owl for you in the kitchen, dear. Sassy little creature."

I was grateful not to have to conjure a reply to Sirius' empty words, and followed her back into the kitchen to find Zephyr on the table, looking at me ungratefully and bearing two letters in his beak.

_Lily must be terribly bored to write back this fast, _I thought. I took them and began to open one, but someone coughed behind me.

Sirius, it seemed, had followed me into the kitchen. I shoved the unopened letter into my back pocket.

"Yes?"

"Can we talk?" His voice was quieter now, uncertain and almost wary. "Somewhere else. Outside. Upstairs. Maybe..."

I held up the open letter in my hand. "Mind if I read my post first?"

"I'm not joking, Remus, please."

I stood and walked up the stairs to my room, and he followed. Once there, I dropped the open letter onto my desk and sat down on the bed. He sat next to me and stared at the wall.

"So where did you go?"

"The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, of course."

"After that grandiose declamation in the kitchen this morning. You went _home?_ I don't understand what possibly could have possessed you to do that."

"Regulus tried to stop me leaving, hence the..." He gestured to his face and chest, both still tinged red with the dried blood that hadn't managed to wash off yet. "You know."

He shifted his weight on the bed a little.

"It isn't fun, dueling your own little brother. He may be a prick, he may be a little snot, and I may hate him with every inch of my being, but he is my brother."

Somehow, the contempt in my heart, the anger, had faded and been replaced with a nearly uncontrollable urge to lean over and hug him. Before I had the chance, however, he had gotten up off the bed and left the room, only pausing to look over his shoulder and tell me, "I am sorry, Remus," as he went.

The others were in bed before long, and I spent the night reading a book so dense that I couldn't afford to have a stray thought in my mind as I delved through the pages. The night seemed to ease past in a quick and relatively painless blur, and before I knew it James was barging into my room, with Peter and Sirius following quickly behind him.

"That was Evans' bird in the kitchen last night," he declared, staring at me.

"Zephyr. Yes. It was. Why, did he ruin the table or something?"

"I told you to let me read any letter Evans sends you. I know she's writing about me, you've got to stop holding out on me!"

"I'm not sure you want to-"

He was already at my desk, looking around for any sign of her handwriting. I got up and put my book down. Triumphantly, he held up a folded piece of parchment and opened it, a grand smile on his face.

I realized then that I still had yet to read the letter, or the other one stored safely in the pocket of my trousers, which I wondered if I could retrieve without his noticing.

As he read, his face was changing dramatically, the smile seemed literally to melt off his mouth into a look of mild disgust, a grimace. "Hell, Mooney..."

"What?"

"You bloody well know what, you wanker." I bloody well did not know. Had she referenced one of my maudlin insults?

"What does the letter say?" Peter asked him.

He looked up and began to read aloud. "Every day without your presence makes my heart weep..." His voice was tight and he read the letter affectedly, without intonation. "Our secret romance has been burdening me ever since we kissed so passionately goodbye – you _kissed _her?" He groaned and fell back against the wall in agony.

"Is that all?" Sirius laughed, glancing at me. He mouthed, _some sort of prank?_

I shrugged, and then stood to retrieve the other letter from my pocket. I scanned the parchment quickly, seeing the post script, _Make sure Potter finds the letter._ Of course.

"She signed it 'your Lily,'" James croaked. He sunk to the ground and tossed the letter to the ground.

Sirius couldn't seem to help it. He erupted with a burst of laughter, convulsing to the point where he had to sit down and brace himself against the wall to breathe.

"What?" asked James pitifully from the floor.

"She's having a go at you, mate." Sirius struggled to get the words out between his fits of laughter. James looked at me for confirmation. Again, I merely shrugged. Sirius continued, "Remus would no more kiss Lily Evans than he'd kiss you, you thick git."

It occurred to me as Sirius proceeded to tease James that perhaps I should read the rest of Lily's real letter and respond to it, but by the time that happened, they had already pulled my from my room, downstairs to watch as they plotted their plans for the day.


	5. Chapter 5

I glanced up from my Transfiguration textbook and looked at the clock. 14:15. Only five minutes since the last time I checked. A long, weary sigh escaped me as I glanced back at the pages, my eyes blurry with boredom and my back slightly aching. I was becoming obsessed with clocks, I realized, as I looked up again to see if the hands on my ancient bedside table clock had moved at all. But still, they remained perched on the two and three, taunting my constant glances.

My day had started with breakfast with my parents, Petunia, and Vernon, which I managed to get through quickly and mostly in one piece. Petunia barely looked at me, which at that point was the best I could have hoped for, and Vernon was no better, brandishing about his bit of sausage as he talked to my parents about his new car and, of course, drills.

Halfway through the meal, my mum and Petunia had decided that they would start on planning the wedding immediately, and try to have it before the end of the calendar year. Petunia wanted a November wedding, but my mom insisted on December, as "four months is really no time to plan at all, and besides, dear, if it's December than Lily will be home on holiday! It's perfect!"

Petunia's face had hardened at this comment, and although she nodded enthusiastically (a little _too_ enthusiastically) I heard hear mutter sarcastic comments under her breath once my mum was out of earshot.

So, after breakfast, I decided that I would continue my now daily routine of shutting myself in my room and pouring over my textbooks. I justified my lack of sociability by reminding my parents that, as this was my last year at school, I had to make sure my exam scores were as close to perfect as possible.

"After all," I had told them, "If I want to be an Auror I need top marks in nearly everything."

"What exactly is an Auror, again?" My dad had asked, his eyes searching for an answer. "I can't seem to recall."

I blushed a bit. Of course he wasn't able to recall—I hadn't exactly told them. My mum knew vaguely about my desire to be involved in stopping Voldemort and his loathsome followers, but the knowledge that I would be spending the rest of my life in the midst of dark wizards would hardly be a comfort to them.

"They—well, they work for the Ministry," I had sputtered, smoothing my hands nervously on my jeans. "They're sort of—like...erm, they help to keep people safe," I had said, thickly.

With my parents tiptoeing around my room to leave me to my studies, and Petunia wanting nothing to do with me, I found my days long, boring, and rather lonely. It had been nearly a full day since I wrote Remus, and I was hoping to have heard back from him by now. My lack of communication with my friends was really getting to me, and the only thing that kept me from literally dying of boredom was my mental image of Potter's face as he read the fake letter I sent to Remus.

For a brief moment, I felt a strange sort of feeling in my stomach. Was—was I feeling _guilty_ about it? I brushed the thought aside immediately. Potter had long endured my less-than-friendly responses to his unrelenting courtship, and he always seemed to bounce back well enough. _Besides, _I reminded myself sternly, _it isn't like it's unprovoked. He basically throws himself at you daily, just so he'd be able to brag about how he finally conquered Lily Evans, were you to ever say yes. He's a slimy, arrogant git._

I sighed as I took one more sweeping glance towards the clock, and then towards the open window. I knew that being cooped up in my house must've really started to get to me, if I was feeling sympathy for Potter.

A loud hoot disrupted my thoughts, and I jerked up from my desk, heart racing. I could see him off in the distance—Zephyr! He soared happily in the air, doing a few twists and flips, before gliding gently onto my window sill. I raced over to him, searching for my letters.

My face fell. My lovely bird had returned empty-handed, without so much as a scrap of parchment from anyone. Any excitement left in me had utterly vanished as it registered that Remus had forgotten about me. Understandable—he wasn't shut up in a house full of tension, as I was, but was probably having a wonderful weekend with his best friends. I groaned in envy. Even though Potter and Black were annoying prats, it was better than no company at all.

Dear Merlin, I really was starting to lose my mind.

A load roar came from downstairs, and my ears immediately perked. The laugh sounded extremely cheerful. Exuberant, almost. I wondered if perhaps Mum or Dad had a friend over? Surely it couldn't be one of Tuney's friends—they were always so prim and proper, none of them would ever laugh like that. For a fleeting moment I wondered if perhaps it was Remus here to rescue me, but I quickly reminded myself that so soon to his transformation, he was in no fit state to Apparate.

I looked around my room as I started towards the door. Perhaps I was imaging it, but the pale blue walls seemed to look a little greyer than normal, a little more depressing. Zephyr was asleep at the bottom of his cage, and my Transfiguration book lay askew on my bed, opened to a page that I had never really started to read. With a sigh of defeat, I resolved to go downstairs and leave my bedroom, which had distinctly been taking on the gloom of a prison cell over the past few days.

I crept down the staircase, hoping to recognize the voice where the laughter had come from before I reached the bottom. I came closer and closer to the living room, barely making a sound.

"We sell big drills, and we've been bought out by a few major companies-"

_Merlin_, it was Vernon. I cursed myself internally for my curiosity, and began to spin on my heel to go back upstairs when I heard a voice call out my name.

"Lily, dear?" My father's voice rang out from the living room, "Is that you?"

Suppressing a groan, I swirled around and stood in the archway of the living room, a painful smile glued onto my face.

"Yes, it's me Dad," I said, barely moving my mouth. Petunia had her eye fixed quite intently upon Vernon, who was looking at me with a mixture between incredulity and disdain. They sat on our large, squishy brown coach together, while my Mum and Dad sat next to each other on our leather sofa. Across from them, in large white armchair, sat a short, stocky woman with a purple dress suit and a wrinkled face. She turned towards me and smiled boisterously.

"Lily! So good to meet you!" She said, extending a beefy hand towards me. "I'm Bertha Taylor, wedding planner. We were just going over some of the preliminary details. Your sister is quite set in what she wants, my dear!" She said, laughing with that same roar that she had earlier, her eyes twinkling.

I glanced over at Petunia, who merely narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms as she looked pointedly at Vernon. He shrugged, and Bertha gestured for me to sit down.

"Oh, really, that's alright," I said, trying to make myself sound casual. "I really should get back to my schoolwork..." In all truthfulness, I wouldn't have minded it, if Petunia's face hadn't started the familiar red twinge that was starting at her forehead line.

"Oh, nonsense dear!" My mum said cheerily, picking up a glass of red wine on the small table next to her and taking a generous sip. "You've been at it for days, now. You can spare a few minutes to help us with Petunia's special day!" She beamed at Petunia, whose lips twitched at the corners.

"Erm...alright, then," I mumbled, sinking awkwardly into a chair on the opposite end of the room.

"Perfect timing, anyway, dear!" Bertha blathered on, taking a swig of her own glass of wine. "We were just discussing the bridesmaids!"

Petunia froze, her face turning stony once again as she held tighter onto Vernon's arm.

"Now, the color of the dresses," Bertha began, "It doesn't seem all that important right now, but in my years I've seen that it works best when the décor is coordinated with the bridesmaids' dresses. Gives it a classier feel, in my opinion. Have you thought of a color you'd like to use?"

Petunia paused for a moment, her eyes sweeping over me as she looked to Bertha.

"Yes," she said quietly. "Red, I think."

"But Petunia-" Mum started, setting down her glass of wine. "We've already discussed this. Red will clash horridly with Lily's hair."

"I know," said Petunia softly. "So?" She looked at me, summoning as much repulsion into her face as it seemed she could possibly muster. "Since when did I say I wanted _her_?"

There was a tense silence in the room for a moment. While most of the room looked shocked, Vernon looked rather smug, and Petunia looked unrecognizable to me.

"When we were little girls," I croaked, my voice barely recognizable. "We—we promised each other."

"Well that was before, wasn't it?" Petuna snapped, her face contorted back to viciousness. "Before I knew you who—_what_ you were. A _freak."_ She spat out the last word with a vicious contempt to her voice, and I felt like I had just been stabbed in the chest.

"Now Petunia-" my dad started angrily, beginning to rise from the couch.

"No. It's fine," I whispered through gritted teeth. I looked over at Vernon, who was suppressing a grin behind his perfectly groomed moustache. "I'll just leave you and your precious little family. I've put up with your constant jeering and jealous snide comments—yes, you are jealous, Tuney," I said, when she scoffed loudly at this proclamation, "Or at least I hope you are. I hope that's the reason you're treating me like—like this. I'm your _sister_."

"_Sister?_ No sister of mine could be such—such a monstrosity. I don't _have_ a sister."

"PETUNIA!" My parents screeched in unison, my mom knocking her glass of wine from the side table onto the floor.

I looked at her, stunned. A moment of silence fell thick over the room. It might have been a second, a minute, an hour. It didn't matter, because all I could feel was the blood rushing to my head, and my thoughts were all jumbled together.

Abruptly, I ran up the stairs, into my bedroom. Cries of my name came from downstairs, from my parents, but I ignored them. I ripped the drawers out of my dresser and shoved a pile of clothes into a tote bag perched under my bed, and shoved the clothes into the bag. I grabbed my wand and the bag, and ran back down the steps, where my parents, Petunia, and Vernon stood in silence. Bertha, it seemed, had taken her cue to leave.

"I'm done," I snarled, ripping my wand from my pocket. "I'll come back eventually."

Ignoring the pleas from my mother, I promptly ran out the door and onto the back steps of my home. My eyes began to burn, and fat tears began to roll rapidly down my face. I didn't have anywhere to go. I didn't have a place to run to.

And in a moment, I remembered. I didn't know what it looked like, or where it was, but I just concentrated on one name, and repeated it over and over in my mind.

_Potter. James Potter. Take me to Potter._

And in a moment, I was gone, my body feeling like it was being sucked down a long tube. By the time I was still I was sobbing loudly, my tears streaming hot down my face.

"Evans?"


	6. Chapter 6

I had never heard such a racket in my life. The screams drifting through the ceiling from upstairs were deafening, and my first thought was to worry that James and Sirius had, finally, literally scared Peter to death. I hesitated to get up – one one hand, they might need me to hide the body, but on the other, I wasn't sure I _wanted _to help hide the body.

It was the sound of Sirius racing down the stairs and throwing my door open that finally made up my mind, so I sat my book down and watched as he, white as a ghost, panted to catch his breath and attempt to speak.

"What happened this time?" I asked him.

"It's... it's _Evans."_

That maybe this was all a prank crossed my mind, but never in my life had I seen such confusion on his face. "Where?"

"James' room."

"You are joking, right?"

He gestured towards the stairs. "See for yourself."

I ascended the staircase slowly, expecting something or someone to jump out at me, but what I found at the top was, in fact, Miss Lily Evans, face nearly as red as her hair, sitting delicately on the edge of James Potter's bed.

"Lily?"

She looked up at me, a look of relief crossing her face. "Remus!" She jumped off the bed, as if glad to be rid of the physical contact with James' sheets, and threw her arms around my neck. "Thank god it's you."

I reeled back a few steps from the force of her hug. "What are you doing here?"

"I—Petunia-and she—it was just—I had to leave and—Potter's name was—well, it was the first that I thought of, so-"

The look of smug satisfaction on James' face nearly broke my serious tone with laughter. "My name?"

"Because I knew you were staying with him. Oh, Remus."

She buried her head in my shoulder, and I tried as best I could to comfort her and ignore the suggestive looks James was shooting her way. _Stop it, _I mouthed at him viciously.

I pulled myself an arm's length from her and looked her straight in the eye. "Lily, I need you to breathe and to tell me, very slowly, and preferably in coherent sentences, what happened and why you are here."

"My sister...Petunia. She—she's marrying that foul git _Vermin_ and she—she wants red bridesmaids dresses and—said I'm—that I'm-" Her sobs muffled the rest of her words, and despite her best attempts at choking out the rest of her story, all she could manage was, "Red, Remus, _red..." _

I pulled her tight against my chest again, turned to James, and told him, "Maybe you should go tell your mother to set an extra plate for dinner?"

Wordlessly, smirking, he left the room, with Sirius and Peter trailing him out.

"Lily, you listen to me, okay? Everything is going to be fine. The Potters will let you stay here for as long as you need, I'm sure of it. You can stay in my room. I haven't exactly been using the bed much, so you can have it, and I promise I'll keep James from bothering you, and once you've calmed down a bit I'll go back home with you and help sort things out. Is that okay?"

"I'm—I c-can't go back, Remus. I can't—she gets to me. She knows that—that I still c-care even though sh-she obviously thinks I'm a worthless pile of r-rubbish."

"Then you don't have to go back. Can you put this all aside for long enough to eat something?"

She took a deep breath and nodded, pressing her lips together. "I—I think so."

She maneuvered about the room as if she were afraid to touch anything that might belong to James, as if he had some sort of contagious disease that might infect her the second she brushed against any article of clothing or piece of furniture, but once we were out into the hallway, she relaxed a bit, and she seemed far more at ease by the time we had made our way down to the dining room.

"Mum, Dad, this is Lily. She's in my year at school," James declared as we walked into the room.

"Any friend of James is welcome to stay here," Mrs. Potter said, smiling easily at Lily.

"Though I am beginning to feel as if James is bringing home stay puppies and begging me to keep them," Mr. Potter laughed. "First Sirius, now you, it would be nice if he could make a single friend with a stable home life."

The Potters' light humor seemed to relax Lily a bit, and she laughed with them as she sat down next to me. She ate ravenously, and I found myself wondering for how long her anxiety about Petunia and red dresses had been keeping her from eating. James, on the other hand, barely touched his food, and spent most of his time testing for how long he could look at her before she looked up from her plate.

The plates were just being cleared away when Sirius turned to her and said, "You've got quite the appetite, Evans."

"Evans?" Mrs. Potter asked. "You're Lily Evans? The Lily Evans my son has been talking about for six years now?"

James' face turned a violent shade of red, and he mumbled something inaudible about his owl and darted from the room.

"The one and only," Sirius confirmed.

Lily's face turned near as red as James' and I struggled to bite back a laugh as the table grew dead silent. After a long and terribly uncomfortable pause, Lily looked up and, very quietly, said, "Dinner was lovely, Mrs. Potter. Thank you so much," and also left the room.

I glanced at Sirius, who also seemed to be fighting back his laughter, before following her into the hallway.

"Shall I show you to your room, milady?" I asked.

"Lead the way, good sir."

I wasn't sure why I felt embarrassed about the room. It was small, yes, but it wasn't exactly _my _room about which to be embarrassed. Yet all the same, I found myself wishing I had tidied up or at least picked up my trousers off the floor before letting her in. She sat down on the bed, a bit more comfortable without James around, and sighed.

"I don't mean to barge in on you like this, Remus," she said, rapidly excusing herself. "Believe me, I never dreamed that I'd find myself sobbing over Petunia in the middle of James Potter's bedroom. I mean..." Again, her face flushed as she realized what she was saying. "Not that I would ever envision myself in his bedroom for _any_ reason. But the particular circumstances weren't—oh shut, up Remus, you're nearly as bad as them."

I couldn't help myself; the laughter I had been holding in for nearly an hour was bursting out of me, and as much as I wanted to comfort her, I found myself barely able to breathe, barely able to stay upright in fact.

"Oh, _stop it!_" She insisted, but she too was beginning to giggle despite her best efforts to keep a straight face. Before long, she had dissolved into a complete fit of laughter, all thoughts of her sister or James Potter or bridesmaid's dresses fading away.

That was how Sirius found us when he came in – lying together on the bed, struggling for breath. We must have been quite the pair, for he nearly left the room when he saw us, and would have had Lily not collected herself for long enough to tell him to stay.

He merely shook his head and said, "I don't know what the bloody hell is wrong with you two, but I almost wish it was wrong with me too."

I sat up and shifted to the chair to make room for him on the bed, finally catching my breath.

"James is a right mess, Evans. I don't know what you did to his brain, showing up in the middle of his room, but it can't have been good."

"Well seeing as you can't mess up something that doesn't exist, I'm sure he'll survive. Now will someone in here _please _tell me what I've been missing in the wizarding world?"

We must have spent hours relaying Mr. Potter's stories to her, and I was glad for the relief. I had felt terrible not being able to write them out in my letters to her, though the events of the summer sounded just as dramatic in person as they would have in writing, especially with Sirius' suddenly somber tone adding a certain element of darkness to the discussion. We told her about the murders of several prominent muggle-born wizards and witches, of the deaths of muggles and the Ministry's struggle to clean up the evidence and gloss things over for the muggle news.

She seemed desperate to stay awake, but I could tell she was exhausted, and before long she was drifting in and out of sleep, her responses becoming incoherent. Just watching her made my eyes heavy, and thinking back I counted that it had been at least a week since I had allowed myself to sleep. Caffeine could only take the body so far, I supposed.

"You want to go back to my room?" Sirius whispered. "Give her some peace and quiet?"

I nodded, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders before following Sirius out of my room, and up the stairs to his.

The mess that covered his floor eased my concern about the state of my own room – I literally could not see the floor, or the desk for that matter, but I crept carefully towards the bed and sat at the foot of it.

"Oh, come on, Mooney. There's plenty of room!" He patted the mattress by where he sat, and reluctantly I moved up to sit next to him. "You must be happy to see Lily."

"Not as happy as James," I quipped, though we both know it was entirely true. "I've had to promise to keep him away from her as much as possible while she's here."

"He'll find a way around you, I've no doubt about that."

"He always seems to, doesn't he?"

"I wouldn't leave her alone for a second if I were you. For all we know, he could be in your room looking for her as we speak!"

"Luckily, she can't break his nose while she's asleep. Poor thing, she looked exhausted."

"She's not the only one. What time is it?"

I looked down at my watch. "Two forty-five."

"God, it's late." He stood up, pulled off his shirt, and began to change his trousers. "Lay down, go ahead, you look like you could use the rest."

I didn't move – couldn't move. Of course Sirius didn't know I hadn't been sleeping, and I wasn't very well going to risk shutting my eyes just to appease him. "Maybe I should go check on Lily—"

"Lily's fine. Why are you so anxious to leave all of a sudden?" Now in his pyjama pants, he lay down next to me and put his hand on my arm. "How long has it been since you slept?"

"What do you mean? I slept last night."

"Remus, you look worse than you did during the last full moon."

I searched my mind of a valid excuse that he would accept, and came up with nothing but the truth. "I've just been having... bad dreams. That's all."

"You should have told us."

"I didn't want to trouble you all with it. It isn't a problem, I have it under control."

"Depriving yourself of sleep is hardly 'under control.'"

"Mild insomnia would have been a better excuse,wouldn't it?"

"Close your eyes, Mooney."

I listened that time, closing my eyes and lying down. The warmth of his body heat was comforting, and I found myself more tired than I had thought I was. Before long I was drifting off, a small part of me somewhere in the back of my mind vaguely aware that I was currently sharing a bed with a shirtless Sirius Black, but most of me just content that, for now, the nightmares seemed to be keeping their distance.


	7. Chapter 7

The warmth surrounding me was intensely comforting, and for a moment I wondered if I was back on the French beaches, basking in the afternoon sun, and the past month had been a dream. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was vaguely aware that there was a force wrapping around me, but my eyes were too tired and still stinging from yesterday's tears, so I kept them closed shut as my head buried further into the warmth.

That was when I heard it. The faint thumping sounded like the beat of a drum, somewhere far off in the distance. A quiet tapping—almost like a hum—that felt calm and steady. Yet, as my head moved closer into the warmth, the light drumming became louder, and curiosity overwhelmed my desire to keep my sore eyes shut for just a little longer. My eyes were instantly met with an unwelcome sight.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, POTTER?"

There he was, his skinny arms wrapped tight around me, his chin touching the middle of my forehead, and my head pressed firmly against his chest. He opened his eyes groggily, still holding tightly onto me, and his hazel-brown eyes instantly locked with mine. Then, he did possibly the most infuriating thing he could have possibly done at that moment. His face broke into an annoyingly victorious grin.

"Morning, sunshine," he said exuberantly, pulling me into an even tighter embrace. "Sleep well?"

"JAMES POTTER YOU LET ME GO RIGHT THIS INSTANT," I screamed, pushing my hands against his chest. He chuckled a little as I began pounding his chest.

"You know, you really are adorable when you're angry," he smirked, loosening his grip on me. I glared at him, abruptly getting up from the bed. _The bed?_

"Potter," I snarled, grabbing my wand from my pocket, "You have one minute to explain what the _hell_ you're doing in my bed."

"_Your_ bed?" James' untidy hair shook as he convulsed with jubilant laughter. "_Your_ bed, Evans? Look around, love. I didn't come to you." His grin grew even wider, "_You_ came to _me._"

I gaped at him in horror, looking frantically around the room. He was, of course, correct. The Gryffindor banners lining the walls and large four poster bed looked identical to the room I had Apparated into the night earlier. For once, I found myself utterly speechless.

"Y_-your—"_ I sputtered, unable to make my words come out properly once more, while James stood leaning against his bedpost with a large, lopsided grin on his face. "But _why_—?"

"Don't ask me, love," he was grinning so widely by this point that I thought his face might literally split in half. "You came in here in the middle of the night, muttering—" His grin now turned smug, "_my name_."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms tightly across my chest. "Yeah. Right, Potter," I scoffed, looking at him in disbelief, "You expect me to believe that?"

Still grinning, he held up his arms in mock surrender. "You don't have to believe me, Evans, because that's what happened. Believe me, I was as shocked as you. Although, granted, a bit more pleasantly," he chuckled, noticing my reddening face. "Anyway, before I knew it, you were asleep in my bed. And I, being the chivalrous gentleman that I am, went to go sleep on the couch downstairs, but you _pulled on my arm and asked me to stay_." The triumph on his face was maddening, and he was absolutely beaming.

I felt a blush creeping towards the back of my neck, and although I could vaguely recall pushing open a door to a room in my sleepy stupor, I knew that Potter couldn't possibly have been telling the truth.

"You're full of it, Potter, you know that?" I retorted, shoving my wand into the pocket of my pyjama pants. "You're literally the last person on earth I want to be around—regardless of the time of day."

His cheeky grin faltered a little bit, but a smirk still played on his lips. I stormed off towards the door, but as soon as I got there, I found myself face to face with him again.

"_What_?" I shot at him, my voice as venomous as I could muster. He looked at me for a moment, with a small smile on his face. Only, it was different than the arrogant smirk he wore earlier. It was less of him looking pleased with himself and more of—well, more of just happiness.

"I'm really glad you're here, Lily," he said softly, looking directly at me. His eyes were wider, a little fearful, and a for a moment, I forgot who I was looking at.

He slid aside and, speechless, I exited his bedroom and started down the hall, hearing the faint _click_ of a door behind me.

_What…was _that_?_ Frazzled, I marched down the hallway, my mind whirling. When I reached my room, I flung the door open in a rage, ready to give Remus a piece of my mind—what was he _thinking_, letting me just walk off into Potter's room? _Not that you did, of course_, I reminded myself quickly.

He was sitting calmly in an armchair, a book opened in his hand, and he looked up at me with surprise.

"Lily?" He asked, shock written plainly upon his face. I wondered for a moment how strange my expression must have looked—a mixture between anger, frustration, and confusion. "What's—"

"Never you mind!" I shrieked. "Why didn't you stop me?"

"Stop you from doing what, exactly?" His voice remained calm, but he set his book down in his lap.

"Oh, you bloody well know what!" I snapped. "Was this Black's idea? It must have been, he's always going on and on about how bloody _wonderful_ Potter is and how I should just give him a chance." My face was turning pink again, mostly out of embarrassment. That must have been it. Black must have, somehow, _lured_ me into Potter's room last night.

"Lily, I've no idea to what you're referring," Remus said sternly, "But I can assure you that Sirius was not breaking into anyone's room last night."

"Well of course he wouldn't _say_ he was, Remus." I waved my hand impatiently. "That's part of the prank, isn't it! He knew you'd tell me, so—" Remus was shaking his head now. "Well, how would you know if he was or wasn't?"

As soon as I said it I almost regretted it, because Remus' face began to turn the slightest twinge of red. At first I thought he was angry at me but then I realized—was he _blushing?_

"Because I was with him," he said, now staring at the floor.

"Oh." I pursed my lips in defeat. There was a moment of silence between us as I contemplated if, perhaps, there was the slightest chance that Potter was telling the truth. Not that it really mattered, considering I was half asleep and obviously couldn't be held to any alleged action I did or did not take.

"So, what shall we do today?" I asked, plopping down on the large bed in the center of the room. Remus' body relaxed, apparently relieved at the change of topic.

"Well," he started, "We could always—"

"OI, MOONEY!" The door flung open and a deep voice boomed from the archway. "There you are! Been looking all over for you."

My jaw nearly dropped to the ground. Of course, I had recognized the voice—the rich grumble of Sirius Black was unmistakable, even when muted by a doorway. What I wasn't prepared for was his clothing choice, or lack thereof.

The Potters' house was, in my opinion, fairly cold, and I had worn flannel pyjamas the night before (as a matter of fact, I was still wearing them.) Remus and Potter were dressed similarly, in long sleeved shirts and sweatpants. Sirius, on the other hand, stood in the middle of the doorway bare-chested, with a thin pyjama pants that hung low on his waist.

"Enjoying the view, Evans?" Black taunted, winking at me.

I rolled my eyes and turned to Remus. "Does he _always_ strut about half-naked?"

Remus and Black both laughed heartily, Remus managing to nod amidst the bursts of laughter.

It wasn't long before, hearing the booming laughter from across the hall, that Peter scurried through the door to Remus' room, followed soon after by Potter, who was, as usual, staring intensely at my general direction.

"So, what's the plan, you lot?" Potter asked, ruffling his hair as he spoke, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Back to the village for some more pranks?"

Although Remus looked like he would much rather be reading his book solitarily, and Peter looked slightly nauseous at the suggestion, the four of them seemed to have some sort of unspoken agreement, and each headed for the door together. I remained standing where I was.

"Well, come on, Evans!" Sirius shouted my way, "We haven't got all day!"

"I'm not going to just tag along and watch you and Potter torment innocent bystanders," I retorted, placing my hands on my hips. "It's immature. And cruel."

"Us? Torment bystanders?" Potter put his hand to his check in mock offense. "We stopped doing that at the end of fifth year! Now we just like to cause a little mayhem…" A grin spread across his face and, breathing a sigh of defeat, I followed them downstairs, towards the front door.

But, Mr. Potter was sitting on the edge of the steps, and he turned around instantly as he heard us coming. His face was clouded and dark, completely unlike the lighthearted expression he had worn the day before at dinner.

"Dad?" James pushed to the front of our group. "Dad, what is it?"

He looked at us all for a moment, his eye grazing over all of us and finally landing on me.

"I know the boys heard the news," he spoke softly, looking directly at me, "But just a few weeks ago, a young man by the name of Sebastian Jones went missing."

I nodded quickly. "Yes, I know. Hestia's older brother." I paused for a moment, noticing the dark circles under Mr. Potter's eyes. He didn't seem to want to go on. "Did they find him?"

Mr. Potter nodded once, stiffly, and turned his eyes towards the floor. He seemed to be unable to look at us any longer.

"He's dead."


	8. Chapter 8

**Authors' note:**

**Hey guys! We just wanted to take a second to say a few things before the chapter -**

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><p>Dead.<p>

James was saying something in response to his father, but all I could hear was the one word, repeating over and over again. Dead. Hearing about muggle families being slaughtered, Aurors going missing, deaths and disappearances, it had been horrible and frightening. But hearing that word, _dead, _such a final and inalterable word, in conjunction with someone I had known—I knew Sebastian. I remembered hearing others talk about him, or passing him in the library. He'd been a couple years ahead of us at Hogwarts, played for the Ravenclaw quidditch team, a handsome dark haired boy, the brightest in his year... Dead? Gone?

It felt surreal, impossible, and at the same time, it made the threat of this Lord Voldemort's rampage seem even more immediate.

By the time my thoughts floated back to the present, we had somehow made is up to James' room.

"-on, Sirius, you can't tell me you don't remember Hestia?" James was saying. "Black hair, Ravenclaw, big tits..."

Lily looked visibly disgusted, but a look of recognition crossed Sirius' face. "Got it. She asked me to Hogsmeade last year, didn't she?"

"No," I corrected him. "That was Sarah Foster. She's in Hufflepuff."

"Was she? Huh..."

Before she could hear any more, Lily spoke up. "I don't know if maybe this is something you all know that I don't, but was, exactly, is the Order of the Phoenix?"

"The what?" I asked.

"Were you not listening? Mr. Potter said that Sebastian was a member of something called the Order of the Phoenix, and that was why he was killed. Not because he was muggle-born, which he wasn't. Hestia's half-blood."

"We don't know what it is," James said. "Every time I try to ask dad what it is, he changes the topic or leaves the room. I've been trying to get it out of him since he mentioned it in passing just after we got back for the summer, but his lips are sealed. What do you reckon it is?"

"Well it sounds like a club of some sort," Peter piped in. "Right? I mean he called him a 'member.''

"It's probably a resistance group trying to fight these Death Eaters," I said. "Logically, it would make sense then that the Death Eaters would want any member dead, right?"

"James, do you think your dad's a member?" Peter asked.

James opened his mouth to respond, but Sirius cut him off.

"_Oh, _you mean the Ravenclaw with the _ginormous _tits? I know her."

James nodded, and Lily looked at the two of them in disbelief before standing up to leave the room.

"Right gargantuan, they are," Sirius added after Lily had left, miming the breasts in question with his hands. "I mean, really, properly _huge._"

The storm had finally let up for long enough for Lily and I to take our books out onto the porch and read in peace, away from the shouting of the others upstairs. She rested her Transfiguration book in her lap while I scanned the pages of a hefty leather-bound muggle novel she had given me for my seventeenth birthday. _The Lord of the Rings, _the cover read in golden letters. I hadn't started it yet, but the descriptions of the wizard character in the first few pages already seemed humorous.

It was peaceful, with the porch by the water and the sun finally shining, reflecting into our eyes off the crests of each wave that lapped against the shore. I had always found the Potters' summer home beautiful. It would have been serene if not for the rambunctious teenagers that filled it.

We had been sitting in silence for nearly half an hour – too good to be true, I thought in retrospect, I'd read more than three pages in one sitting without an interruption – when I started to hear splashing coming from the water, followed by an indistinguishable bellow.

I was hesitant to look up from my book – despite page after page of hobbits singing and walking, I was quite enjoying it. But when the bellow turned into coherent words, I had no choice.

"Oi! Mooney!"

Sirius was standing in the waves, the water up to his waist, shouting over the sound of the surf. I waved, reluctantly, unable to deny that I could hear him, and he started towards us.

Seeing him, Lily turned to me and asked, "Does he ever wear a shirt?"

He was, it appeared, wearing only his boxers which clung to his legs, heavy with salt water. "Remus," he called when he had reached the very edge of the water. "Get in the water with me, come on!"

I held up my book, hoping he would take the hint that I had no desire to get up. To my surprise, it wasn't him that protested my reluctance, but Lily.

She looked up from her book and smiled at me. "Why don't you go? Your book will be right here waiting for you when you get back, I promise."

My hatred for the water was overpowered by the undeniable charm of my best friend. Groaning, I handed her my book and rolled up the legs of my trousers to my knees. "I don't like the water," I tried to explain, but she pushed me out of my chair and towards him.

The water, as it lapped my feet, was not just cold; it was absolutely freezing, and not even the grand smile spread across Sirius' face made it worth it.

"I'm not going in any farther than this," I insisted over the sound of the wind once the tide had hit my ankles.

"But it's so nice."

"It's cold."

"You just aren't used to it yet. If you dive in all at once, you won't even feel it."

"Unlike you," I jested, gesturing to his lack of apparel, "I didn't exactly dress for the occasion. Or should I say undress?"

He smirked at me and kicked his foot out, splashing cold salt water towards my stomach. I stepped back just in time for the worst of it to miss me, but lost my footing on the way back, and found myself sitting in an inch of water, my trousers now quite damp.

It was an uncomfortable feeling, the cold water seeping through the fabric of clothes, raising bumps on my skin. I started to stand, but was knocked backwards onto the sand by the sheer force of Sirius, tackling me to the ground.

"Get _off." _I pushed him off of me, but he grabbed my shirt with one hand and pulled me after him, rolling away from the shore. When I finally managed to stand, trying to cough the water and sand out of my mouth, he grabbed my arm and pulled me with him, racing towards the deeper waves.

Panicked, I tried to escape his grasp, but he was holding my wrist so tight I felt that if I resisted he might very well pull my arm out of its socket. Soon we were knee-deep, waist-deep, in up almost to our chests, and his face was beaming with his smile, his laughter.

Above us, the clouds seemed to be knitting back together into the ominous storm clouds to which I'd become accustomed over the past few days. The wind was picking up, biting at me through the wet fabric of my shirt.

I tried to shout his name over the sound of the waves and the wind, but he didn't seem to hear. Or, perhaps, chose not to.

"Sirius, stop!"

He turned back, letting go of me, bent over nearly in two with laughter, and responded with a shout I couldn't hear.

"What?"

He grabbed my wrists and pulled me towards him, shouting next to my ear over the roar of the waves. "Hold your breath!"

Before I could protest, he had tackled me again, and as the water closed in around my face, I realized that I hadn't taken a breath beforehand. My lungs were already screaming for me to breathe, my limbs flailing uselessly. I struggled towards the surface, the weight of Sirius' hands pushing me down.


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and reviewing! We really appreciate all of your support, and it just makes writing this story that much more enjoyable!**

**- Megan and Christine**

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><p>I knew something was wrong the minute Black's large, strong hands pushed down on Remus' shoulders, just from the look on Remus' face—the utter surprise, and small flash of fear was recognizable, even from the twenty-some yards I was away from them, sitting on the porch. Sirius seemed to notice, too, from the panic that swelled through his face when Remus did not immediately surface.<p>

In a flurry of movement I was barely able to see, Sirius dove under the water. I stood immediately, and started towards the edge of the lake. Thunder boomed and echoed in the distance, and the clouds darkened almost instantly. Sirius surfaced carrying Remus, both of them gasping for air. For a moment, I felt relief, before they once again slipped under the icy blue water. Without thinking, I slipped off my shoes and dove into the water after them.

As I approached them, Black seemed to be struggling to keep Remus' head above the water who, although not unconscious, seemed still a little shocked, and still weakened from his previous transformation, less than a week earlier.

"I'll help you carry him! I'll grab his other arm and we'll swim back together, okay?" I shouted at Sirius, my voice now becoming louder as I struggled to be heard over the thunder. He seemed unable to respond, his face still lined with terror, but merely nodded weakly.

Together, we kicked hard, towing Remus in our arms, towards the grassy land in front of the porch. Rain began to stream steadily, and fell harder in huge droplets, as we approached the surface. Sirius and I dragged Remus onto the ground, his arms outstretched.

"You okay there, Mooney?" Sirius croaked, his voice tense, and his face twisted with worry.

Remus, whose eyes had been halfway closed, looked warily over at Black, who kneeled hunched over him. His eyes drifted to my face, then back to Sirius', and he sat up, coughing up mouthfuls of water. His head turned sharply, and he rounded on Sirius.

"You thick _prat_!" I had never heard Remus yell before, and I had to admit that it was quite frightening. I didn't envy Black. "You know I can't swim, you fucking _arse_!" Remus swearing was new, as well.

Sirius seemed as equally taken aback as me, although he looked slightly impressed with Remus' colorful word choice. "Blimey, Mooney, I forgot. I'm a—a stupid warty, hairy, prick. And I deserved to be locked in a room with Snivellus, and be force-fed the grease from his hair."

My skin seemed to freeze as he mentioned Severus, and for a moment I considered telling him off. But that was before I remembered that we were no longer speaking, before I remembered that he called me a Mudblood, and before Remus burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, and Sirius pulled him into a tight hug.

"OI! What are you lot doing out here? Are you bleeding mad?" I snapped my head towards the porch, where Potter stood with an incredulous look on his face. I laughed, imagining how ridiculous the three of us must have looked. Potter's face softened quickly into laughter as well, and he waved us inside. Hastily, Remus, Sirius and I followed him in through the large white French doors.

The sky still downpoured steadily, and our clothes were drenched with the smell of sweet summer rain; but sitting in front of the lit hearth in the Potters' living room seemed to melt away any chill and filled me with warmth. The four of us sat, cloaked in towels, in a small circle in front of the fire.

"Where's Wormy?" asked Sirius, tossing Remus a chocolate bar that he had taken from the Potters' pantry.

"He left," Potter answered solemly, tapping his wand absentmindedly against his leg. "His mum came and got him. That's why I wasn't with you lot, out by the lake. She and Dad got into a huge row. Said being around us would only lead him into trouble, and that she didn't want Pete hanging around us anymore, or he'd end up like Jones."

There was silence amongst the four of us, and I felt my stomach clench up. I knew what I had to do—I couldn't stay here. Slowly, I got to my feet.

"What're you doing, Evans?" Sirius looked up at me curiously.

"It's because of me," I replied softly. "She doesn't want him around me because I'm—because I'm a Mudblood—"

"Don't _say_ that, Evans," James said sharply, his face fierce. "Anyway, don't be thick. She doesn't want Pete around _us_—never has. Thinks we're a bad influence, or something barmy like that."

"Don't you understand?" I spoke shrilly, my words quavering as I spoke. "Until we're at Hogwarts—_you aren't safe with me here._ They're not just killing the Mudbloods—" James winced again as I said the word, "—they're killing anyone who Muggle borns are close to. Anyone who gets in their way." I paused for a moment. "I have to go home."

Potter couldn't keep quiet any longer, and he sprung to his feet. "Like hell you will, Lily," he snarled, grabbing my arm. "You're safe here. You're protected. Dad cast all these enchantments around the house—"

"_And what if your dad's in the Order of the Pheonix, James?_" I shrieked, pulling my arm away from him. "What if he's out there fighting them? Fighting _him_? If they come here—" my voice faltered, and I felt a sinking feeling well up in my chest. "If they come here with any intention of—of hurting him, and they see that he's housing a Muggle born witch, they could—they'd—"

"Lily, this house is protected under a series of complicated spells and enchantments," Remus spoke quietly, looking back and forth between me and Potter. "I have to agree with James. Leaving now, the situation being what it is, will only put you in more danger."

James turned towards me, his hazel eyes locking firmly with mine, as he placed his hand gently on my shoulder. "Don't go," he pleaded, his voice in a barely audible whisper.

"You don't understand, James," I whispered, pulling away from them. "None of you do. You're pureblood, so's Sirius and Peter, and Remus is half-blood. You don't—don't have a family sitting—sitting unprotected—waiting to be…to be…" I couldn't bear to finish my thought, and luckily Remus hastily interjected.

"Dumbledore will make sure they're safe, Lily—even if they said no," Remus added when I opened my mouth to protest. "Honestly, I'd be shocked if he didn't have protective charms and look-outs stationed at the homes of every Muggle born student at Hogwarts."

I looked around the room, three pairs of eyes staring eagerly back at me, waiting for me to make my decision. I couldn't deny that their arguments superseded my own, but the thought of them risking their safety and the safety of James' family still made my stomach churn.

"Fine," I breathed with exasperation, looking around the room in defeat. "I'll stay—but only for a few more days," I added hastily upon seeing their joyful expressions. "Now, if the three of you don't mind, I'm going upstairs to finish some Transfiguration reading. We're going to be tested on recognizing the signs of an Animagus within the first few weeks and I need to brush up a little."

The three boys began to laugh abruptly, Remus nearly spitting out the bit of chocolate he was eating, and Sirius was literally rocking back and forth on the ground, howling loudly at a joke I didn't understand.

"Wait, Lily—" James chased after me, catching up to me as I reached the bottom step. Sirius and Remus were still visible through the archway to the living room, but they were far out of earshot. I felt a little uncomfortable with him standing so close to me, for some reason, but still I waited patiently for him to speak.

"You were wrong, before," he spoke softly, his eyes seeming to twinkle in the dim hallway light. I looked at him in utter confusion, and opened my mouth to speak, but he continued. "When you said I didn't understand—what it felt like to fear losing someone you care so much about in this war."

I looked at him, suddenly feeling like we were much too close, but unable to look away. "And who would that be?"

James' face broke into the same small smile that had taken me by surprise before, only this time it was lined with sadness. "Why, _you_, of course," he breathed, smiling up at me. Before I could respond, he turned around and galloped towards the living room, where Sirius and Remus still sat, with grins plastered to their faces.

I stood on the staircase in shock, my body seemingly frozen for a moment. _What…was _that_?_ I asked myself incredulously as I quickly jolted up the staircase and into my room, pulling the door shut behind me.

I could feel the heat on my face, but ran over to the mirror anyway for confirmation. Yes, I was correct—my face had taken on a pink flush, reaching all the way to the tips of my ears. I felt strange, sort of nauseous, except more of a pleasant feeling.

It was very strange. I had noticed Potter beginning to act different around me, but the way he had been acting the past few days was just strange. He was beginning to act—well, like less of an arrogant git, and more like a real person.

_Of course, not always_, I thought to myself bitterly, remembering his smug expression when he informed me of my alleged sleepwalking. But for the most part he had been—well, nearly outright _kind_.

I thought back to a conversation we had earlier, just that morning. _"Us, torment bystanders? We stopped doing that at the end of fifth year!"_ Was that true? Had Potter and Black finally given up their habit of hexing people in the hallways, just for the fun of it? Now that I thought about it, I did realize that the times I'd been called to deal with Potter or Black, as a Prefect, had been less and less, and the times when I _was_ called to deal with them, it was usually either the two of them dueling each other for fun, or hexing someone like Severus.

My stomach clenched as I thought of Severus—Severus, who I had defended for all of those years, who had just as easily called me a Mudblood as he had befriended me back when we were children so long ago.

Again, I thought to Potter. _"Don't _say_ that, Evans,"_ he had said, a severity in his tone. Now that I thought about it, he had looked rather disturbed when I said that word, as though I was saying it to _him_ instead of referencing myself. I frowned, turning back at the mirror. The pinkness had nearly disappeared from my face, but my clothes were still damp and smelled musky, so I reached into my bag and pulled out a clean cotton shirt and a pair of jeans, and changed quickly.

I glanced once more at my reflection before heading out the door of the room and creeping slowly down the stairs. As I approached the living room, I could hear Potter's triumphant voice in the distance, talking to either Sirius or Remus.

"Didn't you _hear _that?" he shouted, his voice swelling with jubilance. "SHE CALLED ME JAMES!"

Smiling, I made my way towards them, Sirius and Remus' laughter ringing loudly in my ears.


	10. Chapter 10

His tactics were nearly impossible to ascertain, but by the time our Hogwarts letters arrived a week later, James had managed to get Lily not to scowl every time he entered a room. To my best guess, it must have been a carefully crafted method of operant conditioning, with a complex series of stimuli and reinforcements, but knowing James it was nothing more complicated than simply not being a prat.

Stranger, however, than the lack of a scowl has Lily entered the kitchen where we all sat reading over our Hogwarts letters, was the _smile _that graced her lips. She looked positively cheerful.

"Sleep well, Evans?" Sirius commented as she sat down next to me, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. I handed her the heavy envelope.

She ignored him and delicately ripped her envelope open; from it a large metal pin tumbled out onto the table – the Head Girl's Badge, of course. She picked it up and looked at in excitement.

"Remus! This is perfect, isn't it? You and me-"

I couldn't help but laugh a bit. "I didn't get it."

"What?"

"I'm not Head Boy." My envelope had been empty save the normal parchment, and despite the initial shock – I had, after all, been a fairly good prefect – I found myself relatively apathetic to the entire situation. Removed of the added responsibilities, perhaps I would actually have some spare time in which to relax this year.

James looked over at the pin in her hands, and then down at the nearly identical one he had just pulled out of his own envelope. He stared at the badge dumbfounded for a moment, his mouth agape, his eyes wide. He glanced at Lily, then back at his pin, back at Lily.

"Looks like we'll be spending plenty of time together, huh Evans?" He was attempting to sound confident, but the slight waver of surprise in his voice betrayed him.

As Lily looked over at him and spotted the badge, the scowl returned, darkening her face, her mood turning sour. "You of all people, Potter? How is someone with no respect for the rules supposed to enforce them? The only person I can imagine doing a _worse _job as Head Boy is Black."

Sirius laughed, "It's perfect for Prongsy over there. The best part about any position of authority is that you and all your friends get exempt from the rules!"

"You said the same thing when he got Quidditch captain last year," I remarked, "but, if I recall correctly, you didn't seem quite so keen after 50 laps around the lake on the first day of the season."

"But this is different!" He insisted.

"I wouldn't be so sure of yourself, you bloody prat," James answered him. "For all you all know, this job could be the biggest stick up my arse ever. I'll be running about stopping fifth years from snogging in the common room and everything; I'll be almost as bad as Moony was last year!" He pinned the badge onto his jumper proudly, a spectacularly extravagant display to match the wide grin on his face.

She stood, her mouth twisted. "Could I borrow your owl? I'm writing to Professor Dumbledore immediately. He _has _to reconsider. If anyone has earned this position, it isn't you, _Potter. _It's Remus."

I grabbed her arm as she turned to go. "Lily, stop."

She turned on me, her face outraged. "What do you mean, stop?"

"I don't want it." As the words left my mouth, it occurred to me just how true they were. I had absolutely no desire to be Head Boy. "It would be far too stressful for both of us if I were. You'd be on your own for at least a week out of every month, and I already need all the spare time I can get to keep on top of my work."

Her face softened, as did her voice. "Oh, I—right. I wasn't thinking." She looked at me – a long, lingering look of what almost felt like pity, but was probably closer to sympathy – before turning to James, stepping boldly forward, and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. "I expect you to take this responsibility seriously and not to muck everything up as you always do," she spat at him. "Understand?"

He nodded cooly.

She released him, turning on her heel. As she snatched her letter off the table and headed for the stairs, she called out, "And I'll be leaving tomorrow morning to go sort things out at home before term starts. I except you all won't kill yourselves without me."

When she was well out of earshot, Sirius turned to James and said, "No, but, really mate, you are going to let me off the hook for being in the hallways at night, aren't you?"

James took his letter and whacked Sirius across the head with it. "Of course, you git. But don't let on to her."

Laughing, I took my letter and started upstairs with it – if it didn't make it into my trunk soon I was likely to lose it somewhere – but James stopped me halfway up the stairs to the third floor.

"Moony," he called. "Wait up a second?"

"Sure."

He stood across from me on the staircase, now holding the badge nervously in his hands, fidgeting with it.

"Look, I'm sorry about all of that. You were a pretty good prefect, in all honesty."

"I appreciate it?"

"You're really okay with this?" He held up the pin. "She's right, you probably did deserve it. I dunno why Dumbledore would have picked me—"

"James, I know exactly why Dumbledore picked you. And so does Lily, deep down. We all know I couldn't have handled it without killing myself from exhaustion. I barely managed as a prefect last year or fifth year, and I spend so much of my time in the hospital wing that it wouldn't have been fair."

He smiled sweetly. "I just figured you might be upset."

"I genuinely could not care less. Besides, this way I can keep a personal eye on Sirius without having to worry about the rest of the students."

He laughed, and put a hand on my shoulder. "Thanks, mate. I promise I won't botch it up too bad."

We both started up the stairs towards our rooms, and near the top met up with Lily who was now on her way down. She nearly collided with James, and when he grabbed her shoulders to steady her so she wouldn't fall, she huffed, shook him off, and turned to me.

"Can I have a word?"

I followed her back up into our room, her errand downstairs apparently forgotten. I leaned against the door as I shut it and she sat on the bed and rested her head in her hands for a few moments, before looking back up at me and taking a deep, shaky breath.

"I know you think it's stupid—that I want to go home," she started. "But, I need to—at least just for a few hours. I need to say goodbye to my parents... to Petunia. I have to make things right because—" Her voice broke and her eyes started to fill with tears. "Because, God, Remus, what if something happens to me? To them? I need to see them before we go."

I moved to her, knelt in front of her, and took her hands in mine. "Lily."

She glanced away, the tears rolling heavy down her cheeks, but I took her face in my hand and looked her straight in the eye.

"Lily Evans, you are so incredibly strong. Stronger than I could ever be. I've already written mum and told her I'm staying here until term starts just so I don't have to think about saying goodbye."

"I'm not strong, Remus. If I was strong I wouldn't have come here in the first place. I should never have left them when... when Petunia said she didn't have a sister..."

"You were upset, and understandably so. But they are your family, and if anyone is going to be able to support you and your decisions, it's them, isn't it?"

She swallowed and nodded slightly.

I wiped the tears from her face with my thumb and took her hands again. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I—I feel like this is something I need to do on my own." Her face was breaking into a soft smile. "But it'll just be an hour or so, I swear. I'll come right back here afterwards."

"Take as much time as you need." To lighten the mood, I added, "Just be back before we head off to Diagon Alley or James might very well off himself from the despair of waiting."

She frowned and smacked my arm. "You just have to ruin a perfectly lovely moment," she pouted, but with a slight unmistakable laugh in her voice. "You're just as bad as Potter and Black, I swear, I don't know why I'm friends with you."

"Must be my irresistible good looks," I joked, gesturing to the scars on my arms and face, the lines worn deep in my skin from exhaustion.

"For the last time, you aren't nearly as repulsive as you seem to think you look," she insisted, lying through her teeth, looking uncomfortable as she always did when I mentioned my looks. It wasn't that I cared what she thought, or what anyone thought. It wasn't out of vanity that I hated the scars, it was simply the reminder they served every time I caught a glimpse of my skin in the mirror.

She grabbed my arm, playfully, and said, "Come on, let's go see what you haven't read in the library yet."

"There's nothing, I swear," I laughed, following her.

The library was where she left me later that night when she went upstairs to finish packing and get some rest before leaving, and it was also where I awoke at what my watch informed me was three forty in the morning from yet another nightmare, though I had been completely unaware that I had at any point closed my eyes for long enough to drift off to sleep.

My dreams had been wracked with familiar images and feelings – the sound of my mother's scream, the feeling of teeth and claws around my neck, things to which I had grown accustomed in the years since my childhood, but paired with newer sensations: the feel of Lily's tears against my skin, the sight of Sirius' body torn and covered in blood. In my dream, the gashes in his face and chest were my doing, a transformation gone wrong. Unaware of myself, detached from my own mind, I must have mutilated him as he tried to comfort me, and when the moon fell in the sky, my fatigued body draped over his as I came to myself again.

A padding of footsteps on the stairs must have awoken me, and I thought perhaps I heard a whisper.

_Probably James, _I thought to myself, moving to pick up the book that had fallen out of my lap. But—

My body wasn't obeying the intentions my brain was sending, and I found myself standing, leaving the library, walking up the stairs.

Sirius' door was open, and he lay peacefully in bed, the sheets tangle around his feet leaving his bare chest uncovered. I moved to close the door, but my body sat on the edge of the bed, and when I tried to stand and leave, my fingers found themselves tracing the invisible lines of the lacerations on his chest.

He stirred, his dark eyes opening and moving immediately to his chest.

"Damn," he mumbled. "Mrs. Potter said they wouldn't scar..."

"They didn't."

"But you—"

"I can see the fresh blood in my mind," I admitted. "Every time I close my eyes. How did you—?"

His chest rose and fell in a shallow breath. "I can still feel them."


	11. Chapter 11

The Potters' house was quiet in the early hours of the morning. The sun had barely risen above the horizon, and dew still smelt fresh and sticky in the cool morning air. I sat on the back porch facing the lake, watching the small reflections of light ripple on the smooth water's surface.

It took me until then to notice just how beautiful the Potters' home was. The way the land stretched on for what seemed like miles, plush grass lining the edge of the lake and curving between trees and small beds of flowers. The stone of the house was stately and regal looking, but somehow intimate and cottage-like at the same time. It reminded me, in a way, of a miniature version of Hogwarts, without the large towers and spires looming through the sky.

There was even a small half-Quidditch pitch off in the distance, presumably where James and Sirius spent the majority of their summers. I could imagine them perfectly, zooming around happily on their brooms, letting the wind whip through their hair and laughing as they threw a battered quaffle back and forth.

I squinted harder into the distance, noticing the sun moving steadily among the clouds, making its way up and up the skyline and illuminating the lake, the trees, the grass, with glimmers of orange. I looked back at the house, still peaceful and quiet, and wondered if anyone else was up yet. By the position of the sun, it looked like it was nearly seven o'clock, and I doubted that Black or Potter rose their fat heads from their pillows until at least ten. If my plan went well, I would hopefully be back before they even woke up.

I knew that Potter was less than thrilled with my going back home. Right before we had gone to bed the night before, he pulled me aside from the others (causing Sirius to waggle his eyebrows suggestively, which I pointedly ignored.) _"You can't just waltz around unprotected, Lily"_ he had warned me, his usually carefree expression turning rigid. _"We're all in danger now, but you especially."_

He was right, of course, which made me even more annoyed. _"I think I can look after myself, Potter,"_ I had replied haughtily, rolling my eyes. _"Besides—I'll only be gone for a couple of hours."_

"_Let me go with you." _His voice was low, pleading; his eyes wide and hopeful. For a moment I had considered snapping at him, telling him to mind his own business, but something about his expression—fear, perhaps?—had changed my answer.

"_Fine."_

Of course, today I knew that I was foolish to have agreed for him to accompany me. The danger, though impossible to avoid entirely, was greatly reduced if I was traveling alone than with the son of a suspected member of the Order of the Pheonix. Alone, James was safe—a talented, Pureblood wizard with a knack for weaseling his way out of trouble was not someone the Death Eaters would target. But with me…it was too risky.

I heard stirring inside the house, and glanced over to see if anyone was awake. I saw a shadow moving gently by a window on the top floor, though I was too far away to be able to make out a figure. My heart was pounding loudly in my ears, and I knew that I had to do it now.

Quickly, I spun on the spot, thinking only of a particular shady spot in my backyard, nestled under the branches of a large oak tree.

_Crack._

I landed with a thud on the grass, my knees giving out slightly as I wobbled on the spot. The familiar sense of nausea accompanied with the few times I had Apparated washed over me quickly as I tried to steady myself.

Rushed footsteps clambered towards me from inside, and my pulse sped up as I waited for whoever it was to notice me.

"I told you, Henry," A feeling of relief quickly replaced my nausea as I saw my mum's head pop out the door, looking around the yard. "It was probably just a car backfir—" Her eyes locked with mine, and she immediately cut off her words, staring at me in plain shock.

"What's wrong?" My father's voice rang out from somewhere in the house, probably alarmed by the tone in my mother's voice.

But Mum ignored him, and she moved closer towards me, her large green eyes turning watery and frantic at the sight of me. "Lily!" She gasped, eyes brimming with tears, as though she couldn't quite trust what she was seeing. But that lasted only a moment, before she pulled me into a bone crushing embrace. We hugged in silence and, for a moment, I wondered why I ever left—my mother's warmth was comforting, and I felt safe—safer than I had since the start of summer, when the first group of wizards and witches had started to disappear.

She pulled away from me slowly just as my father, his face lined with worry, appeared in front of the glass sliding doors. His entire expression relaxed when he saw me, and his face broke into a magnificent grin. He ran towards me and pulled me into a tight hug, and for some reason I found myself near the verge of tears once again.

But the moment was soon over. "Where have you _been_?" My mother's eyes were no longer brimming with tears of joy, but instead were narrowed in a piercing glare, the corners of her mouth sloped downwards in an equally furious manner. Flustered, I opened my mouth to respond, but she continued. "Do you have _any _idea how _worried_ we were when you'd left? Just—just stormed off to Christ knows where, and didn't come back for nearly _two weeks_?"

Two weeks? I frowned. That couldn't have been right…could it? A fair amount of time had passed since I arrived at the Potter's but…it couldn't have been that long. Knowing that the exact number of days I was gone didn't really matter to my Mum, I opened my mouth to respond once again, only this time I was uninterrupted as my mother glared expectantly at me.

"Well," I started timidly, barely able to keep eye contact with my furious mother or my father, who looked more sad than angry. "I—I went to a friend's house."

"_And you couldn't write us and let us know that?_" My mother's tone had become even more severe, her eyes nearly popping out of her head.

My stomach dropped. She had me there. The truth was, I had sent Zephyr to deliver my letter back to Alice in Morocco before I had even left, although as soon as I was about to respond with that, I realized that James had an owl that I could have easily borrowed.

"I didn't think about it…" I hung my head, now staring openly at the grass. Guilt welled up inside me, and I immediately regretted leaving—or, at least, the way I left. I had been stupid not to think—not to consider that, while I was at James' house worrying about them, they were at home, worrying about me.

"Which friend's house?" My dad's voice, much calmer and more reassuring than my mother's, cut through my thoughts. "I thought Alice was in Morocco and Emmeline was off visiting relatives?"

I couldn't help it—I felt the blood rush to my face, and knew that I must be blushing furiously. My parents weren't going to be too thrilled that I had spent the past few days in a house full of teenage boys. I mean—if they ever found out that I was in James' bed—I blushed harder, deciding that was a part I could surely leave out.

"James Potter," I mumbled, hoping that they wouldn't be able to hear me properly. I had mentioned Potter and his annoying crush on me quite a few times to my parents, which made the situation even worse—particularly since the blood vessels in my face were so blatantly betraying me. Now—now they would think I was just mucking about. They'd think that while they were sitting at home, worrying about where I was and if I was alright, I was off snogging James Potter or something, without a care in the world.

"Well, we'll have to thank him and his parents, then," My mum said, apparently not noticing my reddening face. My jaw nearly dropped. _Thank_ him?

"Er…for what?" I asked thickly.

"For keeping you safe, and letting you stay with them," Dad answered, smiling slightly at me. "It takes a decent human being to do that. Especially since you haven't exactly been—er—fond of him, in the past."

A new sort of guilt washed over me this time, completely unrelated to my parents or my whereabouts, and immediately I felt like the world's biggest arse. He was right, of course—my dad. For the past six years, I had rejected James and insulted him, over and over again. And while his head _was_ about the size of a Quidditch goal hoop, the fact remained that when I had nowhere else to go, he had taken me in—no hesitation, no questions asked. I hadn't even _thanked_ him properly.

"Right," I said, still flustered and looking down. "I'll be sure to tell them that, then."

A moment of silence passed between us and I almost wished that I had brought James with me. Standing there with my parents was comforting, but in the back of my mind a persistent sadness lingered over my thoughts. I hadn't told them yet that I wouldn't be coming back for good, and I knew the news wouldn't please them. That discussion, however, could hold off for a few moments.

My parents ushered me back into the house, and we sat at the kitchen table, where my mother fussed over the dark circles under my eyes (_"Really_, Lily, have you slept at all since you left?") and shoved a plateful of eggs and sausage in front of me, ignoring my protests that I wasn't hungry. When a hot cup of tea was pushed in front of me, however, I couldn't resist. My throat felt raw and scratchy from the amount of crying I had done in the past week or so, and the warmth felt soothing as I gulped it down.

"Where's Petunia?" I asked, sipping tea and filling my fork with a generous bit of egg. I hadn't expected her to be welcoming me back with open arms but I was surprised, at the very least, that she hadn't been intrigued as to what the fuss outside was all about.

My father rolled his eyes slightly, but my mum didn't notice him. "Oh, she's out with Vernon. They went out on a date tonight," she said, beaming over her own cup of tea. "Isn't that sweet?" I resisted the gagging sensation building in the back of my throat and forced a smile.

"Adorable," I lied unconvincingly, trying to muster up some small hint of enthusiasm in my voice. "Any idea when she'll be back?"

"Probably not until much later," My dad grumbled, scowling, stabbing a bit of my untouched sausage with his fork and shoving it into his mouth with a huff.

"Oh…" I hadn't exactly been looking forward to seeing Petunia—the words she threw at me on the night I left had hurt me more than I thought imaginable. Yet in spite of that, or perhaps because of it, I wanted to see her. A small, naïve part of me hoped that we would be able to reconcile before I left home for good, or at least return back to some semblance of civilized tolerance. But it was already past eleven o'clock, and James had probably realized I was gone by now, and was either wetting himself with worry or angrily punching holes into his bedroom wall. Or, perhaps a bit of both.

My stomach churned again when I thought of James. My disdain for him had been faltering slightly over the past week, and it was absolutely infuriating. As much as I didn't want to admit it, he _had_ matured, at least slightly, since he first asked me out back in our third year. With a start, I realized that the entire time I had been at his house, he hadn't asked me out once. I couldn't decide if I was happy about that or not, which was also enormously frustrating. I felt my face getting warm again and I shoved another bite of egg into my mouth, as my parents chattered across from me.

_Don't be thick, Lily_, a voice inside my head chided, _You just enjoyed the attention, is all. You enjoyed the fact that someone—even if it _was_ James Potter—found you attractive, and was willing to make a bloody fool of himself in front of half the school just to ask you out._

I wondered if that was really the reason. Aside from James, there weren't really many blokes in my life who had shown an interest in me. Alice always told me that there were plenty of boys who _were_, but that they were always scared off by James. Still, while James' constant persistence _did_ grow old very quickly, I did remember the first few times he asked me out I had felt mildly flattered. _But,_ I reminded myself sternly, _After about the fiftieth time, you really just wanted to curse his bollocks off._

"Lily?" I snapped my head up from the plate, and looked up at my parents, whose faces looked expectantly at me. Apparently, they had asked me a question. I swallowed my last bite of egg hastily.

"Er…sorry, I didn't catch that," I said lamely, trying to shake away any thoughts of James Potter and concentrate on my parents.

My dad cleared his throat. "I asked how long you were planning on staying."

I blinked. So they knew. He and my mother both wore uneasy expressions as they peered at me over half-full cups of tea.

"Well," I started, trying desperately to keep eye contact with them, although my eyes kept drifting to the table. "I was only planning on staying here a few hours."

"You're leaving _already_?" Mum asked, complete heartbreak written on her face. I felt another pang of guilt shoot through my chest, but I tried to ignore it. I knew that this could be the only way—my being here only put everyone in more danger, and the longer I stayed, the worse it would get.

"I'm sorry," I said, strength adding to my voice, "But I can't stay. Things are getting worse. Mum, do you remember Sebastian Jones? The boy who went missing just a few weeks ago?"

Wide-eyed, my mum silently nodded her head. "He's dead, Mum," she gasped in horror, and my dad's face turned stony. Suddenly I found myself overwhelmed with the need to speak, and words fell quickly from my lips, like water, and I found myself unable to contain them. "He was barely twenty-one, Mum. Not even four years older than me. And people…people are going missing every single day. A war's coming, Mum. Hell, it might already be here. And the more involved that I get—and yes, Mum, I _am_ getting involved—the more dangerous it is for me to be here. And the more dangerous it is for both of you, and Petunia, and maybe even Vernon. I can't drag you into this more than I already have, Mum. I just can't."

When I was met with silence, I continued. "I know I've spoken with you before about Dumbledore—my headmaster—offering you protection. And I know that I've asked you about it before but, I really must insist—"

"Now, Lily—" My mum cut me off, holding her hand up to stop me. "I've told you before that we are _not_ going into hiding. _However_—" she added when I opened my mouth to protest, "—if there are other protections which your headmaster can provide us with, and if you really think them necessary, then we can accept that."

Slightly defeated, I nodded. I was sure, as Remus had pointed out earlier, that Dumbledore already had protection over our house, but it wouldn't hurt to owl him when I got home.

_Not home,_ I corrected myself firmly, _Potter's house._

"Fine," I replied with resolve, "But I really do need to leave soon. I'll just pack up my trunk, and—"

"Lily," It was my father who spoke this time, his voice soft and his eyes taking on a pleading quality. "Stay the night. See your sister. It may be the last time you see her before the wedding."

Immediately, I began to shake my head. "Dad, I can't—"

"It's only a few more hours, Lily. Please…it would make us so happy if you two had a proper goodbye before you left…"

I paused for a moment, taking in what he said. Staying overnight wouldn't, after all, be all that _more _dangerous. Especially if there were already some protections up on the house. And he was right—I did want to see Petunia…

My mind flashed to Sirius, Remus, and James. They wouldn't expect me to spend the night, and I knew they would be worried if I were gone for so long without telling them. Maybe I could just Apparate back quickly and tell them that I was staying for longer…

But with a sinking feeling, I realized that I couldn't. If I went back to Potter's house, they wouldn't let me leave. They'd say it was too dangerous, to stay overnight…they hadn't wanted me to go in the first place…

_But what about James?_ A voice nagged me in the back of my mind. He was likely to already be angry with me for refusing to take him along, and that was when he thought I would only be gone for two or three hours at most. I exhaled deeply. I could explain when I got back, but now—now, I needed to be home.

"Alright," I said weakly, "I'll stay the night."


	12. Chapter 12

I think it was the shout from upstairs that woke me, and I found myself coming to groggy and unusually warm. It was a pleasant feeling, comfortable, safe – or at least, until I realized that the warmth was Sirius Black, his arms wrapped around me, his head on my chest, his – dear _Lord_ – his erection pressing uncomfortably into my thigh.

I was just managing to keep my eyes from drifting shut again when the door burst open, slamming mercilessly against the wall behind it, and James came into view, still shouting something incomprehensible.

Sirius stirred next to me, his long hair brushing softly against my neck and as he shifted his body against mine I finally managed to notice that I seemed to have an erection to match his.

"Morning, Bambi," Sirius muttered to James, opening his eyes slightly.

But James' shouting had stopped, his face quickly draining of all color.

"Merlin, you two..." He struggled to find something to say, came up with nothing, turned on his heel and left the room without another word.

Sirius looked at me and ruffled my hair. "For such a skinny bloke, you sure make a comfortable pillow."

I laughed, nervously, my pace quickening, hoping he wouldn't notice what I, and apparently James, had before I had the chance to calm down.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looked in the mirror to muss his hair into an acceptable look of dishevelment, and slid his pyjama pants down off his hips to replace them with torn jeans.

So much for calming down, I thought.

My whole body was acutely aware of Sirius' presence in the room, of his every movement and the way they pushed the air around him out of one space and into another, how each movement made different muscles tighten, now in his back, now in his arms, now in the gentle curve of his arse.

It wasn't that I hadn't noticed before how attractive he was – I had – but at school I always had the scarlet curtains of my four poster bed to block everything out and keep me safe from the vulnerability of the morning, while here, right here, I could still feel him pressed into me. something hot burned deep in my stomach, like lust but louder.

I forced my eyes away and stood up, adjusting my own pyjamas and heading for the bathroom.

Sirius hadn't come downstairs yet by the time I eventually made my way into the kitchen, so I sat across from James and started, "Sorry, that was—"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled into his tea.

"What were you screaming about, anyway?"

"Lily's gone."

"I assumed she would be. Said she was headed out first thing in the morning-"

"She left without me. She _promised _she'd let me go with her."

Lily had made it fairly clear the previous night that nothing in the world could make her let someone come with her. Why had she told James he could? She must hate him even more than she lets on, I thought.

"She'll be back in a few hours; she said that was all she needed."

"What if she doesn't? What if they get to her—"

"James, Lily Evans is the brightest witch I've ever known, disincluding, I don't know, McGonnagal and possibly your mother. She can handle keeping herself safe for a few hours."

My words were empty, though, produced only as an attempt to stop James' fretting. I was just as worried about her as he was. But if there was one thing I know for sure about Lily it was that once she had made her mind up about something, anything but conceding would be a strenuous exercise in futility – a lesson James, for all his cleverness, had still not learned after six long years of knowing her.

He seemed a bit more at ease, however – at least, enough to slowly sip some of his tea, though his foot tapped anxiously against the floor.

Around the bottom of my cup of tea, Sirius bounded down the stairs, now, mercifully, fully dressed. He put his arm around my shoulders as he sat. "Well, why the sulky faces? It's a beautiful day."

"Lily left," I explained.

"Foiled again, then, eh Prongs?"

James muttered some inaudible reply and flipped Sirius off under the table.

"Would some quidditch cheer you up?"

Of course it would. There was nothing, aside from possibly Lily Evans herself, that cheered James up more than quidditch, though I doubted it could possibly make him forget about her completely.

While they grabbed their brooms I grabbed my book and took a place on the bench just outside the pitch. _The Lord of the Rings _again, and though I was almost to the end of the ominous tome, I noted that Lily's appearance and my sudden forays into sleeping once or twice had cut severely into my reading time.

They whizzed about in the air for a while, eventually ending up in a heap on the ground, a wrestling match over the dropped quaffle that, from what I could see, seemed to be resulting in, at the very least, a black eye on James' part and a split lip for Sirius. The game didn't last much longer that that before they had abandoned their brooms and their shirts, neither aware of who had actually won, and were heading for the cool, crisp water.

Sirius grabbed my hand as he ran past me, pulling me from the bench along with him, laughing, "come on, Moony!"

I stopped him. "Seriously?"

"What?"

"You're going to drag me into the water again?"

He looked at me, innocently confused. I had wanted to believe he had been joking around, but it seemed as if he had genuinely forgotten that he had very nearly drowned me just a few days before.

"I can't bloody swim, mate." I found myself angrier than I had expected to be. I knew he was sometimes forgetful, but forgetting that he'd almost killed me seemed, well, offensive. "Don't you remember?"

A look of recognition crossed his face before he broke into a large grin.

"Then I'll teach you. Now. Come on!"

"I'd rather not," I insisted.

He pouted. "Everyone's got to learn eventually. I thought wolves loved water."

"Dogs love water. Go, I'll watch from the porch."

Perhaps exacerbated by me earlier near-death experience, I found myself worrying that one of them was going to hold the other under water for just too long, so I buried my face deeper into my book, trying to focus on hobbits instead of the way the water reflected up onto Sirius' bare skin.

I was just beginning to tire of the seemingly endless trek across Middle Earth when James slumped down into the chair next to me, soaking wet, his bare chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to catch his breath.

"What're you reading, Moony?"

I showed him the cover. "Lily gave it to me. It's a muggle fantasy novel about a hobbit who-"

"Bloody—for Merlin's sake, Moony, you're a wizard! You haven't got to read muggle stories about magic."

"What if I want to?" It wasn't entirely true... had anyone but Lily given me the book I would have given up a long time before. The wizard in it reminded me a bit of Dumbledore, had Dumbledore been a complete wanker.

"Padfoot's been whining all afternoon that you won't let him teach you to swim. Just humor him!"

"Last time, he very well could have killed me."

"He's _pouting!"_

"Let him pout."

James sighed, resigning. "What is going on with you two, anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, this morning, and, well, he's been rather touchy lately, hasn't he?"

"Sirius is always touchy. He's a dog, he needs the attention."

"Yes, but this is different."

"It's not," I sighed. "There's nothing going on."

Seemingly content with my answer, he said, "You should still let him teach you to swim."

I didn't. Instead, I waited the rest of the day for Lily to return. When she hadn't returned by that evening, James was visibly beginning to panic. He paced about the kitchen, coming up with poorly though out plans for going to save her, all of which ended in her passionately kissing him when he finally managed to rescue her from certain death.

At around midnight, Sirius and I had to pin his arms behind his back and forcibly remove him from the kitchen to his bedroom, where an impressive sleeping charm from Sirius knocked him out for the night as we went back downstairs to wait.

"I _am _worried about her," I admitted once we'd returned to the kitchen.

"I know you are, Moony." He stroked the side of my face with his thumb and I prayed he couldn't feel the uncomfortable electricity raising between our skin.

"She's just—"

"You're in love with her."

"_What?"_

"Oh come on, mate. James is asleep. I won't tell him. You make it fairly obvious. You're in love with Evans, but you're too good a friend to tell anyone. Or, you value your life enough not to let James figure it out." He seemed very sure of his laughably incorrect conjecture.

"I'm not in love with her."

"Bollocks!"

"We're just friends."

"Friends my arse."

I laughed at his persistence. "Sirius, let me let you in on a little secret. I'm not exactly in a position to be falling in love with _anybody."_

"What do you mean?" His tone had shifted from a playful insistence to a genuine and almost sad confusion.

"Well, I can't exactly settle down, get married, get a job, have kids like a normal bloke, can I? It was fun to entertain the possibility when we were younger, but now that it's all coming up I've got to get used to that. Lycanthropy is a great antidote for fancying girls you shouldn't fancy."

"But, but—Emmeline? Weren't you two—?"

"Emmeline is a fantastic girl, I like her a lot, but she's seeing someone. Some Ravenclaw. Hal someone. And that will be much easier for her than getting involved with me would have."

"That's rubbish."

"I always make things complicated. I've always known that, so it's not so bad."

He sighed, resting one hand on my leg, just above my knee. "So you don't fancy Evans, then?"

"Not in the slightest."

We sat in the library, with the door open so that we could hear Lily when she apparated into the kitchen ,and after a long while he yawned and shifted so he was lying with his head in my lap.

"Does it ever make you lonely?" He asked. "Thinking about your future? Do you get sad?"

I considered this for a minute before finally admitting, "Every day."

"Don't worry, Moony," he yawned, his voice slurring with sleep, shifting his head against my stomach. "You won't be alone. 'm not getting married wither so you'll still have me..."

Before he could see the small smile tugging at my mouth, he was asleep, snoring lightly against my chest.

_Lonely. _The word stirred in my head. He was right; with dad sick, I knew I wouldn't have my family to depend on for much longer; coming up on our final year at school, I wouldn't have Hogwarts to return to; my condition would make it impossible to hold down a good, steady job once I was out, between the monthly exhaustion and all the ministry regulations that had been enacted in the past few years; and who else would I have around? The future, objectively, looked bleak at best, an endless string of short term jobs and a rundown flat somewhere unpleasant. But sitting here, in James' house, with Sirius in my lap, and Lily surely on her way back right now, lonely felt like an impossibly distant and far off alternative to the life I had now, and I couldn't even imagine being really, truly alone.


	13. Chapter 13

Petunia didn't return that night until nearly midnight. As I was fairly exhausted from the long, emotionally stressful day (and since I still hadn't figured out what exactly I was going to say to her) I took what many of my housemates would label "the Slytherin's way out." I pretended to be asleep.

I knew that my parents must've told her I was there, though, because her normally soft tiptoe up the steps had become angry stomps that cascaded through the hallway and permeated through my closed bedroom door.

As I laid there in bed, I wondered if perhaps coming back really was a mistake after all. A faint feeling of guilt lingered in the pit of my stomach, particularly when I thought of Remus and James—Merlin, I even felt bad leaving Black in the dark. But, more than my guilt, I felt worry—an intense feeling of dread that surged through my body whenever I thought of Hestia Jones' family, or the Cromwell sisters who disappeared the week before, somewhere near Kent. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I could picture the heading of the Muggle newspaper—"Evans family found dead in home; causes unknown."

_Causes unknown_. The simple, two word phrase seemed to encompass everything that was wrong with this war. It wasn't a "war"—not a conventional war, at least. Wizards rarely divulged in wars the way muggles did—usually there were duels between the two wizards or witches who had differences of opinion, and that was the extent of it. Yet, even by wizard standards, this war was hardly conventional. There were no battles—no armies opposing each other. There was just Voldemort, and those who defied or supported him. No countries fighting over land or political positions—in place of proper militia were Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix; and in place of battles were massacres.

I tried to sleep, but the thoughts buzzing frantically through my mind were not easily calmed, and I found my night restless. Nightmarish images of my parents' still, lifeless bodies kept floating into my mind whenever I closed my eyes to try to sleep. And, when I managed to pull my thoughts away from the macabre images for a few moments, all I could think of was Petunia, and what in Merlin's name I was going to say to her tomorrow. When the night seemed like it couldn't possibly get any darker, I finally drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

I woke up the next morning to a sensational confusion. It took me a few minutes to remember where I was, and when I reached the kitchen the next morning, it was almost as if I had never left. Petunia had acknowledged my existence only with a curt nod when we first saw each other in the kitchen, and by the time I finished breakfast she was back to pretending I wasn't there. Although, I did notice her looking at me when she thought I wasn't paying attention. I didn't know why—perhaps it was something to do with my abrupt departure—but it seemed to change something in the way she looked at me (though I couldn't really tell if it were an improvement or not.) By this point, I tried to convince myself that I didn't care, and about half of me was able to believe that.

"Good morning, love!" My mum chirped cheerfully as she dipped her spoon back into a cereal bowl. She was sitting next to Petunia, peering over what appeared to be a magazine for bridal gowns. I kept my distance from the table, thinking that my input was not likely to be appreciated. "Sleep well?"

I shrugged. There was no point in worrying her, and I knew that if I explained the anxiety I had the night before, she would likely insist I stayed another night. Staying longer was completely out of the question.

I looked over at Petunia. She was staring fixedly at the magazine, determined not to look up at me. I coughed. Her eyelids fluttered a bit, but she still stared at the pictures of white flowing dresses in front of her.

"Petunia." Her icy blue eyes lifted slowly, and met mine. "Can I have a word?"

She hesitated for a moment, before lifting herself gracefully up from the chair. "Certainly," she said stiffly, her face lacking any sort of apparent emotion. My mother looked at me with a curious expression on her face which I tried my best to ignore as Petunia and I shuffled out into the hallway. My mind drew a complete blank at what to say, but I knew I needed to say something to her before I left.

We stood in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, my back leaning against the wall as I studied Petunia's face. She was staring at the carpet. The scowl I grew so accustomed to seeing etched deep in her expression had faded to simply a faint grimace. Still, I wasn't quite sure where to start.

Needless to say, I was properly shocked when, after a few long moments without speaking, Petunia cleared her throat and looked at me pointedly.

"Look," She began, eyes still glued to the floor, her voice steadily taking on a faux quality of primness and propriety. "About the other day—"

"It's fine," I interrupted, waving my hand aside. She finally lifted her eyes to meet mine, and I was surprised that she looked at me without disdain for the first time in what felt like years. There was a look in her eyes—an expression I couldn't quite read. Pity, perhaps? Some small semblance of understanding?

Another moment passed between us, each of us as unsure of what to say or do as the other. I wondered if perhaps there really _was_ a chance for us—the chance for our relationship to be repaired; the chance for us to become—well, not friends, but…for us to have some scrap, however tiny, of sisterhood to hold on to.

But, Petunia spoke again. "I still don't want you as a bridesmaid." Her voice had lost its fake air of nobility, taking on a soft, but rough quality. I stared at her for a moment, feeling as though something inside of me was sinking quickly. "I mean—what would Vernon's parents say? His whole family will be there. And you're, well—_you_."

A feeling welled up inside of me. Not disbelief or anger. It didn't shock me that she said it. It was, altogether, quite Petunia-ish. No, the feeling, I supposed, was more of a dull disappointment. To have expected anything else from her would have been foolish—yet, I was naïve enough to hope for it.

But then, suddenly and hastily, I felt like something was beginning to boil inside me, that grew hotter and angrier as I turned over her words in my mind. Before I could stop myself, I spoke.

"Fine_._ You know what? I don't even have to go, if you think I'm too inferior for Vernon's _precious_ family."

Petunia faltered a bit, and, admitting a raging defeat, I began to go back upstairs to pack up my trunk. Before I reached the bottom step, she called after me.

"I just want them to like me!" I froze, inches away from the step. "And if they—if they figure out _what_ you are—you'll spoil it! You'll ruin _everything_ like you _always_ do!"

Blood pumping loudly in my chest and thumping in my ears, I slowly spun around. I could feel my face turning red, and my whole body felt heated, as though it caught fire in the span of a few seconds.

"I'm sorry," I spat through gritted teeth, a bitter drawl in the back of my voice, "That I'm too _inferior_ to be in your bloody _fairy tale _wedding. I'm sorry that Vernon and his _perfect_ family mean more to you than I do." I looked at her, my heart thumping louder in my chest. My anger began to subside a little bit as I realized that she actually seemed to be paying attention to what I was saying, rather than just ignoring me like she usually did. I spoke again. "But Petunia—you need to understand. What's happening right now…it's not normal. It's _dangerous_. And—I just— when it's _my_ name in the paper—dead or missing—maybe you'll finally stop treating your family like second class citizens. Maybe you'll finally _wake up_." I emphasized the last words with as much pleading in my voice as I could muster. Without looking to see her reaction, I turned swiftly and took a few steps up the staircase before she spoke again.

"I'm sorry, Lily," she said softly, "But my answer remains." I paused for a moment, before turning back around.

"Have a nice holiday, Petunia," I said stiffly. "I'll see you in December." And with that, I ran back up the stairs to gather my trunk.

By the time I Apparated back to James' house, it was approaching noontime, and I prayed that everyone (James, in particular) was still asleep. I felt guilty leaving him, especially after what my dad had said to me the day before about James' hospitality. I felt like I was taking advantage of him—of his willingness to do…well, pretty much anything for me. I wanted to apologize to him, but not until I could figure out some way I could really make it up to him. And, to be quite frank, I was moderately apprehensive about being on the receiving end of Potter's infamous temper, particularly after my conversation with Petunia. There were definitely times I loved a good row, but this was certainly not one of them.

I had Apparated just a few feet away from the porch overlooking the lake, and as the lock on the door was not resistant to a simple "Alohamora" (I made a mental note to inform James of this, once he stopped being angry with me—wasn't this house supposed to be under incredibly high protection?) so I quietly pushed open the door and entered James' spacious kitchen. The house was unusually quiet, and I assumed that Mr. and Mrs. Potter were at work, and I _hoped_, for my own sanity, that the boys were still sleeping.

I slowly swung the door shut until I could hear a faint _click_ as it locked back into place. As quietly as I could manage, I tiptoed across the linoleum floor and up the long spiraling staircase that lead upstairs. About halfway up the staircase, a loud creak came from one of the steps, and I froze instantly, listening quietly for any sounds of stirring. When none came, I rushed back up the stairs and into my room, closing the door softly behind me.

When I turned around, I noticed the room was completely empty. I was surprised—I had expected that Remus would have taken advantage of my absence and take the opportunity to sleep in his own bed rather than the library floor or in Sirius' room. Barely breathing and moving as quietly as I could, I opened the door and peeked across the hall to Sirius' room. The door was wide open, but his bed was empty as well. I frowned. Had they gone somewhere? I hoped that they weren't daft enough to go searching for me.

I glanced down the end of the hall and saw that James' door was still closed, so I quietly tiptoed back down the stairs to the library. It was the only other plausible place Remus could have been, and I firmly told myself not to worry until I checked there.

When I approached the library, I noticed that the door was just barely cracked open. I pressed my head against the door, listening for any sort of sound.

"Remus?" I whispered, pushing the door open slightly. I was answered with a faint snore. I pushed the door open farther, and stuck my head inside the frame.

Lying there on the floor was Remus, curled up next to Sirius, whose head was resting on his shoulder. Remus' arms hung loosely around his friend, while Sirius' one hand laid lazily on Remus' chest. Their legs were both bent towards each other, with their kneecaps touching, almost like they had become two arrows that were pointing towards each other. They breathed in time with each other, Sirius' snoring muffled by Remus' chest. He buried his head deeper into Remus' shoulder when I opened the door, stirring slightly from the sound.

Suddenly, I felt very uneasy, like I had just intruded on something I wasn't meant to see. I couldn't quite place it, or explain why, but something about them was just so…intimate. So peaceful. For some reason, I could feel a blush forming around my cheeks. Slowly, I backed out of the room, closing the door as I took a few step backwards.

My third step was cut short by a wall of warmth—a person, who I had apparently backed into. I could feel their chest pressing into my back, and feel their breath against the back of my neck. I couldn't see who it was, but I could only guess—and for some reason, the guess made my heart pound quickly and my breathing turn ragged and short.

"Looking for someone?" A deep voice breathed into my ear, and I felt an unfamiliar sensation tingle down my neck. The voice had confirmed my fears. I swirled around quickly and found myself nearly nose to nose with James Potter, whose usually carefree expression looked stony and livid. His usually untidy hair was absolutely wild, like he had just rolled out of bed and hadn't bothered to comb it. He was still clad in his pyjamas—a thin Gryffindor t-shirt and flannel bottoms.

"Er…morning, James," I said thickly, remembering that his furious expression was because of me. "I'll just be going back upstairs…" I took a step towards the staircase, but he was too quick. He shuffled in front of me, blocking my way, still staring at me. I waited for him to speak, but we merely stood there for a moment. I could tell how angry it was, but my initial feeling of guilt shifted dramatically, the longer I looked at him. Why should I have to apologize for wanting to visit my parents? My _parents_, who I might never see again…? I pushed the thought from my mind, and looked at James with annoyance.

"Look, Potter, I'm sorry that I didn't let you go with me. I know you wanted to be all heroic, like you were protecting me, or—or whatever it was you were playing at, asking to go with me—"

"_Playing_ at?" He looked at me in disbelief. "Are you bloody mental? I wasn't _playing at _anything. I wanted to make sure you didn't go and get yourself _killed_, Evans."

I looked at him with belligerence. "Do you think I'm some sort of idiot, James? You think I can't protect myself? You think—you think I'm just some weak Mud—"

"_Don't_" he snarled, nearly pushing me against the door to the library, "Don't go trying to make this into another one of your stories about how I'm just an arrogant prat who likes to play superhero—"

"Well _why does it matter_," I found myself shouting, which took both of us by surprise. "I don't see why it matters so bloody much! I'm here, aren't I? Didn't get myself murdered, did I?"

"DO YOU HAVE _ANY_ BLOODY IDEA WHAT YOU DID?" He roared at me, his face turning slightly red. I jumped back against the door, nearly tripping over my own feet. James had _never_ yelled at me before—no matter how many insults I threw his way, how many times I rejected him, he never _ever _retaliated. But, I wasn't scared. There was a look in his eyes—not anger, but a desperation of some sorts—like there was something I just wasn't understanding.

"I wake up and you're _gone_—you're just—just bloody up and left, like—like, I don't even know. And then you're gone for a whole bloody day and—Christ, Lily, I'm sitting here like I'm your sodding mother or something, checking the clock every bloody minute, hoping that you're not—that you're not—"

I was stunned still for a moment. James anger had subsided and now he looked like he was choking back tears, unable to form coherent sentences any longer. He looked so vulnerable, so unlike anything I had ever seen of him before. In that moment, he wasn't the arrogant Quidditch captain and obnoxious prankster I had known for the last six years. He was just…James. A boy who I had never really seen before—a boy who I had never looked closely at enough before.

I acted without thinking, without a moment of hesitation or analysis. I did what felt right in that moment, which was to wrap my arms around his waist and pull him into a tight hug—the first hug I had ever given him. As soon as I did it, I knew I shouldn't have, because he was so warm and smelled like clean cotton and soap and it made me forget for a moment that this was the boy who I had utterly loathed for the past six years, the boy who I found to be a complete and total arse—the boy whose infatuation with me frustrated me endlessly.

And now, here we were, my arms wrapped tightly around his chest, his wrapped even tighter around the small of my back, and I found that not only was I not repulsed in the slightest, but I didn't want to let go. That prospect alone was enough to preoccupy me that I didn't hear the door open behind me.

"Oi, Prongs, are you—MERLIN'S BALLS!"

I jumped back from James, my face burning hot. James was no better, though—he looked like he had just been seriously Confunded, and he was staring intensely at the ground. Hesitantly, I turned around slowly, and found myself looking into the shocked face of Sirius Black, whose jaw literally looked like it was about to be unhinged from his face. Remus stood a few feet behind him, a bemused expression on his face.

"I—um—" I sputtered, looking back and forth from James to Sirius to Remus, then back to James. I knew my face must be growing violently red, and before I could think of anything else to do, I sprinted towards the staircase, and took a few steps up. I paused before I reached the top though, and turned my head so that I could hear what was going on in the next room over.

"Prongs, were you just…were you just _hugging Lily Evans?_ I mean—were you actually just _embracing_ her?" Even without seeing his face, I could hear the incredulity in Sirius' voice.

I heard no response, but assumed that James must have nodded, because Sirius spoke again. "Did you spike her pumpkin juice or something?"

"Sod off, Padfoot," James retorted, but he didn't sound angry—in fact there was a smile in his voice. I heard him begin to walk towards the staircase and, remembering where I was, I scampered back up the steps so that we wouldn't run into each other. Before I closed the door to my room, though, I heard Sirius speak again.

"Hell, Moony. Maybe there _is_ a God."


	14. Chapter 14

To say the very least, I was relieved to see Lily back intact and thoroughly unharmed; I would have been absolutely thrilled to see her back had she not grabbed my harm and hauled me up to my room the second she managed to get away from James and Sirius, a stern look on her face, completely interrupting my attempts to ask her how her visit with her family had gone.

She slammed the door behind her, sat me down on the bed, and crossed her arms across her chest, standing over me like a warden or an police detective ready to interrogate me. I searched through my mind, but came up with nothing for which I had to answer to her.

"Remus," she said harshly.

"Yes?"

"Is there something you're keeping from me?" She looked at me, pointedly, accusing me of some crime I was not aware I had committed.

"What?"

"After I figured out you were a werewolf, I made you promise that you wouldn't keep thing from me anymore, remember?"

Of course I remembered. The morning in fifth year that Lily came to visit me in the hospital wing, her face shocked and white, telling me she had finally figured it out-couldn't believe it had taken so long-how could she have been so _daft_- and _why _had I not told her before-she could have _helped somehow_-and _how in Merlin's name _did I manage to cut myself _there-_ she had practically made me swear at wand tip that we wouldn't keep secrets anymore. And since that day, grateful at her for keeping my secret, for not running, screaming in the other direction, I had kept that promise.

So what was she on about now?

"Yes."

"Then is there something you want to tell me?"

"If there was, Lil, I would already have told you, wouldn't I, then?"

"You don't have to pretend, Remus. I know…" She trailed off, looking a bit uncomfortable, and if I had even the faintest clue what she was on about, I would have interrupted her just to spare her from the uneasy look that was quickly leaking across her once-stern face. "I saw you with Sirius…"

With Sirius. We had woken up intertwined on the floor in the library, his head on my chest and my heart in my throat until he jumped up at the sound of James' scream just outside the door, but it hadn't been _anything. _Certainly nothing I was hiding, nothing secret, nothing at all I needed to admit to her, or to anyone - even myself, for that matter. In fact, it was such a minuscule nothing of an event, sleeping with your arm around your best mate, waking up and only being able to think about the feel of his smooth muscles under your skin or how soft his hair was, that it was probably better to avoid thinking about at all. That's how absolutely trivial it was.

She looked at me, waiting for an answer, and so I looked back at her, my face as blank as my mind - which was to say, probably not as blank as I thought it was, considering what she said next.

"You're in love with him."

I opened my mouth with the intention of replying, _no I'm not, _with utmost ease, grace, and honesty, but what tumbled out of my mouth was instead a… well, to put it delicately, a clusterfuck of unintelligible syllables and undignified noises that I couldn't remember uttering.

Her face changed yet again, no longer stern, no longer uneasy, but what could only be described as absolutely giddy, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a rather loud and inelegant giggle.

"I- what?"

"Remus, it's fairly obvious, isn't it?"

Apparently, not obvious enough for me to notice, though now that the words were out of her mouth, I felt my stomach clench and my heart- Merlin, was my heart _fluttering?_

"I just can't believe you never told me," she continued, still laughing. "I mean, you should have known that it wouldn't- _bother _me, or anything… I only wish you would have told me before I had to walk in on the two of you and figure it out for myself, _again."_

_"_Lil," I said, hoping she would stop laughing so that all the blood in my body would stop rushing to my cheeks and the tips of my ears. "I think you figured it out before I did this time. I'm still not entirely sure you're right."

"What do you mean? I thought - you mean… you two weren't?"

Now it was my turn to laugh. "Regardless of what my feelings may or may not be, I don't think my tits are big enough for Sirius. No, we were up waiting for you to get back, just sitting and talking, and we just sort of fell asleep like that."

She crossed her arms again and raised her eyebrows. "You don't think he feels the same?"

"We are talking about the same Sirius here, right? The Sirius that's slept with all the girls in Gryffindor house but you?" It was as the words escaped my lips that the strangeness of this all finally seemed to sink in. Lily was right, of course, Lily was always right about everything, but all the stupid cliches about love from storybooks and fairy tales - the ones I had written off long ago - I felt. I had, for longer than I could remember, to the point where the feeling was just background noise, just a fact, like noticing that Lily had freckles, or that James' hair was a mess, or that Peter had a stain on his shirt. It was a fact that Sirius' smirking mouth always looked kissable, it was a fact that there was nothing I'd like more than to hold his hand, and it was a fact that, despite what Lily said, this wasn't really okay. "I'm his mate, that's all."

"He hasn't slept with _all _of them. I'm pretty sure Alice and Emmeline never - well, that's beside the point."

"That's only because he knew Frank fancied Alice and I like Emmeline. So what _is_ the point?"

"You _are _his mate. But I'd bet my Potions grade that that isn't all."

"Then it's a good thing Severus is your Potions partner, to save your grade and all."

The distance suddenly apparent in her eyes made me immediately regret my words. I silently cursed myself, cursed the almost-full moon for making me such a sodding prat, and even cursed Severus a little bit while I was at it.

"I see," she said. "Right. Well. I'll be… downstairs. I've got some reading to finish."

She turned and opened the door, but I leaped off the bed after her, grabbing her shoulder, holding her wrist so she couldn't leave until I'd apologized properly.

"Lil, I'm sorry. I'm a wanker. I know."

She looked me in the eye and very quietly, with an almost frightening intensity, she whispered, "I'd have expected that from James, Remus. But not from you. I thought you understood…"

Normally, that would have been enough. I would have let her go, she would have made her way downstairs and read or cried and I would have let her cool off for a few hours, then maybe apologized with chocolate, tried to make it up to her. That was what I intended to do. But instead of letting go, my hands gripped tighter on her shoulder and her wrist. The rational portion of my mind knew this was my fault, knew she had every right to be angry that I had brought up Severus, knew that I should let her go, but the rational portion of my mind wasn't exactly what was in control at that moment, and suddenly, inexplicably, I was shouting at her.

"You think I don't sodding understand! You think you're the only one who has ever been betrayed by someone you thought cared about you, Lil? Do you? Severus is a prat, we all know that. James saw it, hell, even I saw it, and you just ignored it until he went and mucked things up! You think you're so bloody noble for seeing the best in people all the time, do you? You see the best in Severus and you can't even see that James has done nothing wrong to you, ever, has done nothing but practically worshipped you for _years. _Seeing the best in broken people isn't _noble, _Lily, it's stupid. It gets you hurt because you're so busy trying to be _honorable _that you ignore all the bad things. You end up being friends with people like _me, _people you can never fix, _monsters…_ and then there are people like James who want nothing but the best for you and you bloody walk all over him, insult him, abuse his hospitality…"

I didn't know where the words were coming from, it was not as if I'd been holding this all back, the thoughts were literally coming from nowhere, as were the tears now streaming down my face.

"I'm a werewolf, Lily, and Severus has fallen in with people like Sirius' family, and you still can't help but like us, so when we finally do something in our nature and hurt you, you get to act all disappointed and put out like we bloody _owe _you something for giving us your pity and your sympathy, and- and-"

My voice broke, along with both my composure and my balance, and the next thing I knew I was on the floor, my arms no longer gripping Lily's skin, but bruising my own, wrapped tight around my torso as I inhaled frantic, ragged breaths, trying to stop myself. Trying to repress everything that was trying to break out of me, and I was afraid to look up, afraid to look at the fear I knew must be in Lily's eyes, really looking at me, at this _monster_ for the first time.

I imagined she was backing away, probably planning to pack her bags and run home the second I moved away from the door behind which all of her things were. Those must have been the footsteps I was hearing, _must have._ Except, now there was a voice, very distinctly not hers.

"Lupin," it warned, "you get the bloody _hell _out of my house."

"S-stay out of it James! H-he's… he's n-not acting like h-himself!" Her voice quivered, heavy with the beginning of a small sob. "I c-can… I don't need you to…"

"Don't worry. I'm going." I grabbed my wand from my pocket, mentally tallying what I would be leaving behind if I just apparated away now, and if any of it mattered enough to stop me.

"Remus!"

I couldn't look anywhere but the small pile of dust gathering just where the wall met the floor.

"Remus, stop! Just... p-please, just sit back down. D-don't go. I'm sorry, I'm... I'm so sorry... you're r-right..."

"I'm sorry," I said, but my voice didn't make it past the lump in my throat. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," my inaudible mantra, my silent plea for forgiveness I'd never deserve. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

But then her arms were around me, and she was smoothing down my hair and softly shushing my soundless supplications the way my mum used to when I'd apologize for going out to catch fireflies that night, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

A new growl came from the direction of the staircase. "What did you do to him, Evans?"

"She didn't _do _anything. He was shouting at her-"

"It's three days until the bloody moon, Prongs."

"That doesn't give him an excuse to be a fucking arse!"

I could feel the warmth of his body heat as he knelt next to me and took my hand in his, running the quidditch-calloused pads of his fingertips lightly over my knuckles. I wanted to grab him, I wanted him to hold me, I wanted him never to let go, I wanted him never to see me like this, I wanted him to run, to leave, to be afraid of ever having anything to do with someone as unstable as I was, but he was holding my hand tightly, he wasn't letting go or running, and somehow that only made me sob harder.

"Get up, Evans. You've caused enough damage here for one night."

I could feel her get up, could feel her back away as he moved closer to me, but still all I could see was that stupid dust pile on the floor.

"Remus," he whispered in my ear. "It's okay. It's okay."

"Get your head out of your arse, Black. What damage did _she _do?"

"James, just leave it. Please."

"She's got fucking bruises on her arm!"

I didn't want to leave the warmth of the arms wrapped around me, didn't want to wipe my eyes or slow my breathing or tear my eyes away from the floor, but I forced myself to stand up. "He's right, Sirius."

I was amazed that I could speak with any semblance of composure.

"Remus-"

"Can you two just let me talk to Lily alone for a minute?"

James seemed reluctantly to step away from her, and Sirius seemed equally reluctant to step away from me, but with a firm look I managed to convince both of them to descend the stairs before turning, finally, uneasily, to look Lily in the eye.

"Lily," I started hesitantly. "I-"

"You're a git, you know that?"

It stung more than I was expecting it to, even though I knew it was coming. Another friendship ended by my condition, another fact of life with which I still had yet to learn to cope.

"How many bloody times do I have to tell you that I don't care that you're a werewolf, Remus? You're not a monster, you're my best friend. So stop acting like a prat because we both know you aren't one."

Between the revelation that I was in love with Sirius, the realization that I was a total prick, and all of the uncontrollable shouting, I didn't imagine that this would be the one thing all night to leave me speechless.

"I- what?"

"Look, Remus, I know the full moon's coming up and, believe me - I've known you long enough to know that it makes you a little... irritable. And, well - to be honest... this isn't the-er-the best time for me, either..."

I couldn't help it; despite the tears and the anger, despite everything, I burst into laughter.

"What?"

"Merlin, Lily, I'm like a bloody _girl!"_

I could see her trying to keep her composure, her serious business best-friend face, but it wasn't long before she cracked, beginning to laugh loudly as well.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER, LUPIN?" I heard James shout, storming back up the stairs, and both of us only dissolved further into laughter.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **As you can probably see, we're now slowing out posting down to once a week now that we're starting school so that we can update regularly and not get behind. We'll be posting a chapter every Wednesday. Also, thank you so much to all the amazing people who have been reviewing and favoriting and whatnot! We really appreciate all your feedback and support. Enjoy!


	15. Chapter 15

After Remus' transformation, things calmed down a little bit around James' house, although the tension from the fight seemed to linger for the next week or so. While Remus and I were practically back to as if nothing had happened—although, I had to admit, some of his words still haunted me, regardless of how many times he apologized or said he didn't mean any of it—Sirius and James were still fuming. While Sirius and I had never been the best of friends, his attitude towards me after that night changed drastically, for the worse. I did my best to ignore it but James, of course, couldn't, and so the two of them were going at it practically every night. James was still livid with Remus as well, but I had never seen anything as intense as James and Sirius' fights. Their closeness made their words that much more personal, and sometimes even fists were involved (although, I was very glad that they were sensible enough to never use magic on each other.)

It was strange, though—even when they were arguing, it was still almost like a re-hashing of inside jokes and secrets shared between friends that spoke to how well they really knew each other. Even their insults sounded like they were in some sort of code—like when, at the end of a particularly nasty fight, Sirius announced to everyone that he was going to go deer hunting—something which, for whatever reason, made James go extremely pale.

About a week and a half after Remus' transformation, I was surprised to find that, along with my usual _Prophet_, Zephyr had brought me a thick envelope with my name written with Alice's familiar dainty penmanship on the front. Since Zephyr usually delivered my post directly to my room, quite early in the morning, I didn't have to worry about being interrupted by anyone. Without so much as glancing at the newspaper, I tore open the envelope and hungrily read the letter, absentmindedly passing Zephyr a treat.

_Merlin, Lily, were you ever planning on responding to my letter!_

I gasped loudly when I realized that I had never responded to the letter that she had sent me weeks earlier. With everything going on at home, and then picking up and moving to James' house, it had completely slipped my mind. Guiltily, I continued to read.

_Luckily, James and Frank have been corresponding with some sort of regularity, and James mentioned (and by mentioned, I do mean wrote a three page long analysis of) the fact that you're staying at his house? Or, should I say, his summer _mansion_? I don't know how _that_ came to be, but I expect that you'll fill me in on everything the moment we get to school—it's been awful, having to hear about my best friend's summer whereabouts from a third party source! (Even when the third party source is quite sweet and charming.)_

_Which, by the way—congratulations on making Head Girl! James mentioned it to Frank, along with the fact that he's Head Boy. Frank and I were both a bit shocked (not about you, of course) but Dumbledore always has been a bit of a nutter, hasn't he? Either way, I'm sure McGonagall is just absolutely beaming that the Head Boy and Girl are _both _Gryffindors! Though, it's not like there were really any others in the running, when you look at the Prefects from last year. I mean, especially the Sly-"_

A large black scratch mark was crossed through the next couple of words. I squinted to try to read it, but found that the scratches almost went through the parchment. The first word, I knew, was "Slytherins," but why would...? _Oh._ With a sinking feeling, I remembered the two Slytherin prefects in our year—Alecto Carrow and Severus Snape. Suddenly, I didn't feel like reading the rest of the letter. I set it down on the dark mahogany bureau at the front of James' guest room, before walking back over to the sizable bed and plopping down on it.

_It's been years, Lily_, I scolded myself, leaning back onto the pillow so that I could see the sliver of sun beginning to peak out from the bottom ledge of the window. _It's been years since you've really been friends. You need to let it go. Move on. You have Alice and Remus...and Emmeline, Marlene, and Mary...and James..._I paused for a moment, shocked by my own subconscious. James? No, we weren't—we weren't _friends_, or anything.

_Although, _I considered, watching the sun rise more steadily up the sky. _You are living at his house. He did stand up to Remus _and_ Sirius for you...his two very best friends._ I frowned, sitting up slightly in the bed. Thinking about it now, the less it made any sort of rational sense. James had always been-well-how he was, around me. But...fistfighting with Sirius? Threatening to throw Remus out of the house? I had seen the "Marauders" fight before—well, not really Peter, he just seemed to sort of drift between sides—and I knew it was often overdramatic and unnecessary (like most everything that the four of them did,) but I had never seen them fight so intensely before. Surely James understood that Remus was different when it drew closer to the full moon, and surely Sirius understood that Remus became a prone to outbursts—they knew Remus much longer than I had, and much more thoroughly. And yet, here they were, bickering like children over an issue that was resolved days ago.

My thoughts were interrupted by a faint rapping at the door. I looked over at Alice's letter, which I had yet to finish reading, and hastily jumped off the bed to shove it in the top drawer of the bureau. For some reason, the thought of someone else reading the letter before I got the chance seemed like the worst thing that could possibly happen, and so I made sure to cover it with a few pairs of socks before shutting the drawer.

"Come in!" I called, sitting back down on the bed. The door swung open, and I saw James standing in the doorway, his face slightly flushed.

"Er...hey. Do you mind if I just...exist here for a moment?"

I raised an eyebrow. "It's your house, Potter."

Silently, he sat down next to me on the bed, staring at his hands. I looked at him for a moment. His hopelessly untidy hair fell slightly into his face, but he didn't bother to run his hands through it this time, letting it fall freely in front of his eyes, which were framed with dark circles. I wondered if perhaps he had gone without sleep for the past few days. He looked...terrible. A surge of guilt pulsed through me as I realized that he was probably upset about Sirius. I knew I had to say something.

"Look...James..." I started, not really sure how I was going to finish my sentence. James' eyes met mine, and I found myself even less sure of what I wanted to say. Luckily, James cut me off.

"Can you promise me something?"

I looked at him with what I could only imagine was complete incredulity, because I saw a small smile form in his face. Certain that he was going to ask me to find somewhere else to stay, because he finally realized that keeping me was much more trouble than it was worth, I nodded timidly.

"When we get back to Hogwarts, will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"

My jaw literally dropped. Was he _actually_ asking me out? With everything that was going on—were we _actually _back to that? Upon seeing my expression, he quickly backtracked.

"No-not as a date or anything! I—no. I just..." He ran the tips of his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face for merely a second before it fell back into place again. "Look, Lily, I—I know you're brilliant. You're the top of nearly all of our classes—well, behind me, of course-" I scowled, and he laughed freely which, for some reason, made me want to smile. In my best impression of Petunia, I pursed my lips tightly together. "I'm only joking, only joking...anyway, I know you're bloody amazing at...well, everything—no, it's true," He added as I began to shake my head. I felt a blush creeping up my neck and I tried to will my face to remain its normal skin tone. "But, it's just...with everything that's happening now with Muggleborns, I just—if you're going to leave the castle, I don't want you to be alone. It's been eating at me ever since you left-"

"Hang on," I interrupted, comprehension dawning on me. "_That's_ why you look so awful?"

"Wow, Lily, you sure know how to make a guy feel great," He said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at me. "If you ask me, I look rather fantastic-"

"No, but-" I cut him off again, looking at him incredulously, "_That's_ what's been worrying you?"

He looked at me as though I had just asked him what Quidditch was.

"Lily—that's what's _always_ been worrying me. That's—that's why you're here. That's why I nearly went mad when you just _left_. This is real shit, Lily, this is—blimey, do you think this is all a _game_ or something?"

"Of course I don't," I protested indignantly, struggling to keep my voice at a normal pitch. "But I'd have thought that—Sirius-"

"Sirius is a stubborn git, but he'll come round. We...we've had worse fights. And anyway-" He continued when he saw me open my mouth to inquiry what fights he was talking about, "This isn't about him. I mean, Christ, Lilly, I couldn't just let Moony shout at you like that-"

"But you should have!" I found myself on my feet, although I didn't recall standing. "He was right, wasn't he? I'm—I still feel bad for Severus! I still feel like it's all my fault, what happened...like, if I were a better friend, then maybe...and you! James, you're—you've been so kind to me and I'm just...just..." I couldn't continue, the words weren't coming out anymore and I felt like if I opened my mouth again then I wouldn't be able to stop the emotions from pouring out. I stared down at the floor, not wanting to look at James, but I felt a warm arm wrap around my shoulders.

"You were probably the best thing that could have happened to Snape."

Reluctantly, I moved my eyes, now prickling with tears, to meet his. His face showed no hint of disdain or anger, as I had expected when I mentioned Severus, but rather his face emanated warmth and even understanding. "You made him stop...reconsider. He had to think twice before he...well...chose his way. But he _chose_ it, Lily, and you can't change that. You couldn't. You can't blame yourself for that. And as far as me..." I looked down at the ground, waiting for James to repeat what Remus had said just days before—that I was ungrateful, and taking advantage of his hospitality. "Lily, I couldn't be happier to have you here."

I blinked, wondering if I had heard right. I looked at him for a moment, trying to take in everything he said. It was...unexpected, to say the least. In just a few seconds, James had managed to assuage at least some of the feeling of regret and failure I felt when I thought of Severus. And, on top of that—he was happy to have me here? I mean, I knew that he wanted me here to be safe but—even I knew that I hadn't been particularly fun to be around the past few weeks. But he seemed so genuinely happy to have me there with him—not a hint of irony, not a tone of sarcasm. It was then that I realized that Alice, as smart as she was, may have been wrong. Dumbledore might not be a _complete_ nutter.

"James Potter...when did you get so wise?" I teased, smiling slightly.

He grinned, and shrugged. "Right around when you started calling me James."

I smiled, chucking softly as my eyes moved back down to my hands. A long pause passed between us, before James cleared his throat. I looked over at him, and saw that his face had changed a bit—his eyebrows were furrowed as though he was concentrating on something, his lips slightly open, ready to say something that he couldn't quite find the words for.

"Look, Lily..." His brows knit deeper, and he rested his chin on his knuckles before looking over at me. "I—er-I know I can come on kind of strong. And I know I've acted like an arrogant prick and...I mean, you have every right to dislike me because of that. But...I'd really like it if we could try to be friends?"

I stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to say. _Friends?_ Surely he was joking—we'd known each other for six years, and our relationship had remained fairly stolid. He asked me out in an overt, melodramatic way; I shot him down. He sulked for a bit and then went off and hexed someone. The process repeated. If, after six years, friendship was unattainable—and, to be honest, never really a _goal—_what made him think that now would be any different?

Still, it was undeniable that I was beginning to notice a change in James. He was less obnoxious, for one—most of the time, at least. He actually provided me with useful advice about Severus—someone who I _knew_ he hated. Someone who, to be honest, I _wished_ I could hate.

James cleared his throat again, and I was snapped out of my thoughts. He was looking at me expectantly—nervously, almost, but with giddy hopefulness. I sighed.

"I...I suppose so. Yes."

He grinned. "Fantastic!" He jumped up from the bed in a swift movement and took off towards the door, calling after me without glancing behind him. "Glad that's sorted, then!" And in a moment, he had left, prancing down the hall towards his room.

I got up from the bed and walked over towards the bureau, pulled open the top drawer, and reached inside, snatching up Alice's letter. As I walked back over to the bed, ready to stretch out over the Queen sized mattress and finish reading the next few pages of Alice's tidy scrawl, I wondered if perhaps, this year would be quite different from all the rest.

I spent most of the rest of my day reading, although I had mostly given up on trying to get ahead in Transfiguration for the year. I enjoyed reading Muggle books, but unfortunately, I had lost touch with most of the newer Muggle literature since entering Hogwarts, so I was always unsure of which books to buy. Mostly, I wound up borrowing Petunia's old schoolbooks and reading through them. I had taken a liking to William Shakespeare, in particular, and that day I was reading through her barely-touched copy of _Othello_. I always enjoyed Shakespeare, and although I certainly enjoyed nearly all of my classes at Hogwarts, I often found myself wishing that I had the opportunity to take some of the courses offered at schools like Petunia's. Magic was fascinating, but I was rather sad that Hogwarts had no classes to quench my thirst for English literature, aside from a book or two in Muggle Studies.

Just as Othello found Desdemona's handkerchief, I heard an array of muffled sounds coming from downstairs. Frowning, I closed my book and crept out of the room and down the hall. The sounds were becoming more distinctly like voices now—angry voices, by the sound of it, although I still couldn't quite make out what they were saying. Quietly, I wandered down the long, creaky steps, towards the kitchen, where the voices became louder.

"Does it have something to do with the Order of the Pheonix?"

"James, leave it-"

"It does, doesn't it!"

"I told you, this is none of your concern-"

"Bollocks."

"_James_, don't talk to your father like that!"

"Fine. That's a load of fucking_ shit_-"

"_James Potter-!"_

"This isn't up for discussion, James. We'll be back before midnight."

"But-"

I heard the familiar loud _crack_ that accompanied Apparition, and in an instant the voices were gone. James muttered a string of swears under his breath, followed by a thump that sounded nearly identical to the sound of a shoe kicking a cabinet. Against my better judgement, I inched into the archway of the kitchen, where I saw James, sitting at the large wooden table, furiously flipping through the pages of yesterday's _Daily Prophet._

"James?"

He ignored me, flipping another page. His lips were curved downwards into a menacing scowl, and his eyes scanned each page quickly and thoroughly as he flipped page after page with a look of disgust. Unsure of what to do, I silently pulled out a chair from the table and sat down next to him, watching him look through _Prophet_, anger increasing with each page he turned.

"Er...James...? Care to enlighten me as to what you're doing?"

"Padfoot," He snarled, still not taking his eyes off the paper. "I need Padfoot. And Moony, too. Sod it all." He stood up abruptly and shoved his hand into his jeans pocket, further and further, until his entire arm was in his pocket, nearly to his shoulder.

"Undetectable extension charm," He muttered at my look of disbelief, as he began to rummage through his pocket, obviously looking for something. "Where's the bloody—? Ah."

With a hint of victory lined in his face, he pulled out the prized object-

"A hand mirror?" I raised my eyebrows at him. "What, have you forgotten what you look like?"

He glared at me, although I could see the trace of a smile on his lips. "Not just _any_ mirror, Evans. _The_ mirror."

I looked at him blankly. Clearly I was missing something. "Okay...and, what, exactly, is so special about this shoddy old mirror?"

He didn't respond, but instead looked at the mirror and spoke directly to it, in an authoritative tone. "Sirius Black."

He waited expectantly for a moment, not moving his eyes from the mirror. When nothing happen, he huffed in annoyance. "_Sirius Black," _He said, a little more forcefully. Slowly, I began to understand.

"Is...is that a two-way mirror?"

"Well done," He said sarcastically, finally looking up from the mirror. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

Ignoring his tone, I pressed further. "But—Sirius and Remus are right upstairs. There's no need-"

He shook his head. "They went into the village to buy some groceries."

"Oh." We stood there for a moment as he glared angrily at the mirror. I hadn't realized that Sirius and Remus had both gone. I wondered if perhaps Remus had finished the copy of _The Lord of the Rings_ I had given him, because I wouldn't have minded reading that once mo—_hang on._

"So, _they're_ allowed to roam about wherever they wish," I contested indignantly, "But _I'm_-"

"SIRIUS BLOODY BLACK! Where _are_ you, you wanker?" James bellowed as he shook the mirror slightly, his entire expression emanating annoyance.

"_What_, Prongs?" A violent whisper echoed from the mirror, causing me to jump up from my seat a bit.

"Didn't you _hear _me?" James still looked annoyed, but much less frantic.

"Of course I heard you, you bloody prick! The whole of _England _probably heard you. I'm in the middle of a muggle shop, you daft-"

"Come back now," James cut him off, his tone assuming authority once again. "You and Moony need to come back now."

Sirius scoffed, and although I could only see the back of the mirror, I could practically _hear_ Sirius rolling his eyes.

"We have to pay for this lot, _Prongs._"

"Leave it," James pressed. "It's important."

There was a pause for a moment, as James looked searchingly into the face of the mirror.

"_Prick_." I heard Sirius say, but James grinned slightly and set down the mirror. I opened my mouth to ask what was going on, but before I could, Sirius and Remus appeared in the middle of the kitchen with a loud pop.

"What," Sirius began hotly, his arms crossed defiantly over his chest, "Was so _bloody_ important that you couldn't wait five minutes for-"

"The Order's meeting tonight," James supplied, looking squarely at Sirius, before his eyes drifted over to Remus, and finally over to me. I looked back at him, not understanding what he was getting at.

Sirius clearly didn't either. "_So..._?"

"My dad," James continued, now looking at Remus. "I think he's a member."

"So we heard," Sirius cut in before Remus could react. "What's your point, Potter?"

James scowled at the use of his surname. "My _point, Black_," he snarled, wheeling around to face Sirius "Is that if we're clever about this, we can figure out what, exactly, this Order is. What they're doing, what they're planning...how we can join..."

Sirius couldn't help it. His face broke into a grin. "_Join?_ Bloody hell, Prongs, you think they'd let us in?"

James grinned back, excitement building at the possibility. "I think they'd be hard pressed to find anyone as...clever, as stealthy, as..._marauding_ as the bloody _Marauders_. And Evans, of course."

"Merlin, Prongs...that'd be _wicked._"

Both boys grinned as Remus and I exchanged glances. The thought of any organization willingly taking on James Potter or Sirius Black—let alone _both_ of them _together—_was frightening, particularly when said organization was the only actual threat to Voldemort. Remus coughed loudly, and Sirius' smile faltered a bit.

"Look, Prongs, about before-"

"I know. Same." James and Sirius looked at each other for a moment. "But I still think you're an arse."

"And I still think you're a prick," Sirius responded, grinning. The two boys started at each other for a moment, both with large, stupid grins on their faces.

"Are you two going to snog now or something?" I quipped, causing both of them to scowl at me, while Remus howled with laughter. "Or is James going to enlighten us on this _brilliant_ plan of his to find out about the Order?"

James smiled again. "It _is_ quite brilliant, Evans, thank you." I rolled my eyes, and Remus gestured for him to continue. "Alright. Well, I've been looking over every _Daily Prophet_ for weeks. No mention of the Order of the Phoenix—not _one._ I've been thinking that the Ministry doesn't know anything about it-"

"Well, of _course_, the Ministry doesn't know about it," I interjected. "They're not exactly the most honorable lot-"

"But if not the Ministry," Remus said quietly, looking now at James, "Then who's _behind_ all of this? The Order, I mean?"

"_Exactly_!" James exclaimed, nearly bouncing out of his seat. "Exactly, Remus. Who indeed? That's the big question, isn't it? It's less about _what_ the Order is—we've practically figured out the basics of it, haven't we? It's the anti-Death Eaters. We don't need _what_-"

"We need _who,_" Sirius supplied, his eyes sparkling with the same look he always got back in fifth year, right before I caught him and Potter pulling one of their God-awful pranks.

"Exactly." James' smirk was all too self-satisfying for me to handle, particularly when none of them had realized a gaping hole in their deduction.

"That's all well and good," I said, looking over to James. "But _how_ are we going to find out who's in the Order? It's not like we can just waltz over to wherever they all meet and—"

But at this, James did not falter or show any hint of dissuasion. In fact, his smile broadened as he leaned forward and dropped the tone of his voice to barely above a whisper.

"The _cloak_."


	16. Chapter 16

"This plan is bloody _terrible." _

"No, but think about it, Moony, it could really work!"

I felt like banging my head against a wall until one or the other cracked. From the excitement on James' face, he was clearly convinced that his plan was absolutely infallible, and that by the end of the night we would know every member of the Order of the Phoenix, what they were trying to do, and their bloody dinner plans for next Tuesday.

He had sat us down in his room, cast a silencing charm on the walls in case either of his parents arrived home, and began to detail a plan slightly more dangerous and significantly less well-thought out than even the worst of his wooing-Lily plans. Next time his father had to apparate out of the house to anywhere but work, he told us, Sirius would be under the invisibility cloak, and would grab onto Mr. Potter's foot just before he apparated, follow him to to headquarters of the Order, and deliver back all the information he could gather.

His plans had holes so big Hagrid could have walked through them.

"You honestly believe an _auror_ isn't going to notice that there's someone grabbing his foot as he apparates? And won't possibly suspect that it could be his son using the invisibility cloak that _he _gave to him?"

"It won't be his son, it'll be Sirius!"

"Either way. And I highly doubt the Order will appreciate having a member of one of the most notorious Pureblood families spying on their meetings, right?"

Even Sirius, usually backing James up one hunderd percent, seemed skeptical, running his fingers through his long hair, his mouth pressed shut even when James begged, "You'll do it, won't you Padfoot?"

It had been such a nice, relaxing day until James had hatched his plan. If there was one thing I enjoyed more than watching Sirius trip over the use of muggle money, it was his fascination with muggle clothing stores, filling his arms with piles of jeans and band t-shirts and worn leather jackets while I sorted through piles of second-hand jumpers.

"It's a horrible idea, James, and far too dangerous."

"Moony-"

"I don't usually stop you, but this is where I draw the line. You are not deliberately putting Sirius in mortal danger just because your father won't tell you what's going on."

"But I haven't revealed the most important part of the plan yet!"

A familiar, mischievous look filled his eyes, the same one he got whenever he had a brilliantly horrible plan to spring on us - usually this look meant he was adding either explosives of pink dye to the plan, though I wasn't sure how either was going to help this particular idea.

"I'm hoping it's that this is all one massive joke and you have no desire to do any of this at all?"

"As soon as Padfoot gets wherever he's going, he'll turn into a dog," he announced, triumphantly. Sirius' ears seemed to perk up at the mention of his animagus form. A few days since the full moon, he was probably dying to run around or play fetch or lick his arse or something.

"I still fail to see how that makes any of this fool proof. You agree that this is stupid, right Lil?"

I turned to her, hoping to see a look of disdain similar to mine on her face, but instead I saw... shock?

"Lily?"

She seemed absolutely speechless. Even if I gave James' plan the benefit of the doubt, this new reveal wasn't quite good enough to be shock-inducing, was it? Except...

Shit.

Finally, a few moments too late, it occurred to me that Lily didn't know that Sirius was an animagus, did she? She didn't know that any of them were, of course. She had spent so much time with us for the past few weeks I had practically forgotten she herself wasn't one of the Marauders.

"She doesn't know," I croaked, my voice hoarse with the sudden realization. "James, she didn't know, and you just... shit."

"Y-you..." she sputtered, "but... are you _joking?_"

James opened his mouth to respond, but Sirius cut him off, standing up from his seat by the window. "We're not joking. We- well, James, Peter, and I, are animagi."

"That's... that isn't possible! I've read over the list of registered animagi, for transfiguration class, and none of you are on there. You _are _joking, this whole plan is just part of some elaborate prank on me, isn't it? And-"

Before she could finish, Sirius was gone, and in his place, a great black shaggy dog was padding towards her, nuzzling her hand with his snout.

"No..."

The dog snapped at her, snarling slightly, and I could just hear Sirius' voice in my head, "If this isn't going to convince you, you're thicker than I thought."

I took a deep breath. "They became animagi in fifth year. Unregistered. They'd been working on it ever since second year, when they found out... about me. When they're animals, the wolf can't hurt them, so... they keep me company during the full moon."

"But... that's incredibly complicated magic. Even moreso when it isn't being regulated by the Ministry. You lot could have been killed, or-"

"We know," James said. "But we couldn't very well just leave the poor bloke alone, could we?"

Padfoot got up from Lily's side and trotted over to me, his pitiful eyes looking up at me as he curled up onto my lap and rested his furry head on my knee.

Lily took a deep breath, staring, wide-eyed, at the dog in my lap. After a minute in which she seemed to take in all this new information, she turned to James and said, "Well, I understand why he's a dog. But mangy, isn't he? So what're you? Show me."

"It's, er... a bit large for this room."

"What, are you an ass or something?"

"No, I'm not a bloody ass! I'm a stag." James held his chin up, proud and majestic, as stag-like as I'd ever seen him.

She looked at him for a moment, and then began to laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just," she gasped between laughs, "I get it now-Black's joke-about-deer hunting."

James smile faded slowly, along with his hubris, as he turned away and muttered, "It's not funny."

She tried to hide her snicker behind her hands, but couldn't seem to help laughing. Meanwhile, Padfoot nudged my hand with his snout, licking his fingers as I turned my hand over to scratch behind his ears.

"Padfoot, that's disgusting." I wiped my hands on my trousers. He growled, a low noise from the back of his throat, and got up, loping over to James and pouncing on him until James lost his balance and fell onto the floor, Padfoot licking his face eagerly the entire time.

"Get off me!" James shouted, but Padfoot showed no signs of relenting.

Lily turned to me, still laughing a bit. "I presume this means they've stopped fighting?"

I nodded, joining in on her laughter. "And I'm hoping that if this continues for long enough, they'll forget about James' daft plan as well..."

Thankfully, James did seem to forget, or at least was merciful enough not to bring it up for the rest of the day, and the next morning we were off to Diagon Alley with Mrs. Potter and would have no way of following Mr. Potter anywhere, cloak or not.

Both my pockets and my Gringotts vault empty of the money necessary to buy new books and supplies, going to Diagon Alley was merely a formality for me, but I enjoyed wandering around the shops and admiring my friends' purchases as much as they loved making them, so as Lily headed off to meet up with her dorm-mates Alice Clarke and Mary MacDonald, I followed James and Sirius as they eagerly made their way towards Quality Quidditch Supplies.

They spent what must have been an hour quite literally drooling over a Cleansweep Two, the newest, fastest racing broom, which wouldn't be released for sale until November, a fact that James lamented and that nearly provoked Sirius to threaten the salesgirl to sell to him despite the fact that there were none to sell, only a non-functioning display model.

"D'you think I can use my masculine charm to persuade her?" Sirius asked James at one point, eyeing the poor girl crudely.

James didn't seem to hear him, as he was too busy looking longingly at the display and sighing, "With this broom... we could beat Slytherin so bad..."

"James," I taunted, "Shall I let Lily know that you'll be directing your romantic advances elsewhere this year?"

Minus a well cast jelly-legs jinx that the salesgirl hit Sirius with just before we left the store, we managed to avoid any sort of trouble for nearly the whole morning. I was, in all honesty, praying to whatever holy deity may or may not exist that we could go one whole day without any sort of altercation when I nearly tripped over Sirius, who had stopped dead in his tracks, and once I regained my footing I looked up to see what had stopped him: Regulus.

Regulus, it seemed, had frozen in a similar reaction, drained of all his Black-family swagger and Slytherin contempt, his band of green-and-black clad followers around him.

I could see Sirius' muscles tensing, rippling through the thin fabric of his muggle t-shirt. His fists clenched. I grabbed his arm, hoping to relax him or at least hold him back when he decided to attack.

Regulus unfroze himself first and by the time he'd opened his mouth to talk, passersby were starting to stare at the two nearly identical boys.

"Well, well, Sirius. Found yourself a boyfriend, have you?"

I jumped and pulled my arm back when I realized he was referring to me.

"Sirius," James hissed from behind me. "Just leave him."

"Well, well," Sirius responded with the uncharacteristic coldness he only adopted when speaking to a member of his family, a mocking sneer identical to Regulus' gracing his mouth. "Found yourself a brighter brain? Impressive. You steal it from a troll?"

Even one or two of the Slytherins attempted to hide a snicker at Regulus' shocked face.

"D-don't make me curse you again," he snorted, trying to maintain his cool composure.

"I have been meaning to compliment you on that one - never seen it before. Who taught you, dear old Mum?"

"A friend of mine, actually. Thought it up himself. I believe you know him, actually," Regulus gestured to a greasy-haired boy behind him before continuing, "Your boyfriend like those scars?"

"What scars?" Sirius responded cooly.

"_What scars?" _A familiar voice snarled, indignant, and Severus Snape stepped forward from behind Regulus. "Those scars should be unhealable..."

"You test it out on muggles, Snivellus?"

"So what if I do, Potter?" Severus was already drawing his wand, a curse nearly on his lips, daring James to fight back, but as soon as James' wand was out of his own pocket, he turned to look over his shoulder.

I heard it a second after he did - the familiar, bold, snort of a laugh of Mary MacDonald, which could only mean one thing.

He mouthed Lily's name as he tried to shove his wand back into his pocket where she wouldn't see that he had obviously been just about to hex someone, but it was too late.

"I thought you'd stopped hexing innocent bystanders, Potter," she announced, hands on her hips, obviously disappointed until she turned to see just who James had been planning to hex. Her faced turned red, the contemptuous snarl transformed into a look of shock, and then almost immediately into a very forced blank look, her body rigid and her lips pressed together to keep back whatever words the sight of Severus Snape had inspired.

"Lily..." Severus' voice was almost a gasp as he uttered her name under his breath, he too trying to shove his wand back into the pocket of his robes. He started towards her, but a threatening glance from James seemed to make him think better of it.

She swallowed and opened her mouth, obviously choosing her words carefully. "Remus, Potter, Black... We were just headed to Fortescues's for ice cream, would you care to join us?"

Eager to avoid any further discomfort, I mumbled, "Yeah, of course," before grabbing the arms of both of my friends and dragging them behind me down the alley in Lily's direction. "Let's go."

Apparently, however, avoiding discomfort was not an option. As the six of us sat at a small table in the back of the crowded ice cream store, I felt almost more uncomfortable than I had back out on the street with Regulus and Snape. Sirius was glaring at his ice cream as if it were Regulus and if he glared hard enough it would burst into flames. Lily had barely even acknowledged her ice cream and was looking blankly down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. James, though he had finished his ice cream in about twenty seconds flat, looked as if he could hit himself. Meanwhile, Alice and Mary, who seemed oblivious to what had happened, were chatting away merrily.

"And Marlene's still in Italy visiting Kingsley," Mary was saying. "He's staying with an uncle there until he starts his Auror training in September. How exciting is that? I do wish I had the O.W.L.s to be an Auror, but it's awfully frightening work, sometimes, isn't it."

"James, you're thinking of becoming an Auror, aren't you?" Alice asked. She seemed somewhat more aware of the uncomfortable tension at the table than Mary. James nodded absently in response, but didn't say anything, so she continued, "What about you, Sirius, Remus? Are you thinking of becoming Aurors, too? You're both certainly talented enough for it."

"'m rubbish at Potions," Sirius muttered, too busy glowering at his sundae to elaborate. Alice turned to me.

"I, er, hadn't really considered it," I told her, lying through my teeth. Of course I had considered being an Auror, as all my friends had, but werewolves weren't allowed to work for the Ministry - a fact of which I had been painfully aware ever since the beginning of sixth year when McGonagall and I had sat down to discuss career options as she did with every other Gryffindor student. The pity that graced her kind face that entire meeting was still burned into my mind, a look to which, by this point, I should have been accustomed - would have, too, had it not been for the other Marauders and Lily. The question stung. I would have loved to be an Auror. But, of course, Alice didn't know I was a werewolf, didn't know I'd never be able to work for the Ministry, didn't know what strife her question had arisen in me, and so I merely smiled, laughed a little, and said, "But, you know, anything's possible," in a poor attempt at diffusing the tension at the table.

The table, however, fell silent. An overwhelming, uncomfortable silence. I took a bite of my ice cream and looked down at the table, awkwardly. Behind me, the bell over the door tinkled, and suddenly there was a hand slapping the back of my shoulder, as a familiar voice shouted, "Oi, Gideon, lookit who I found!"

Fabion Prewett smiled beneath his unruly hair, and in mere seconds his identical brother appeared next to him, smiling just as large with hair just as messy. The two each grabbed James by a shoulder.

"Fancy seeing you lot here. Captain," Gideon greeted him, "you taken a look at the new racing broom yet?"

"Bloody incredible, it is. You think we can get a couple for the team this year?"

The appearance of the other two chasers seemed to pull James out of his stupor, and even Sirius perked up a bit at the mention of quidditch.

I turned to Lily as they talked, nudged her leg with mine under the table, and mouthed, "you okay?" She pursed her lips and shook her head a bit so I leaned over and pushed her ice cream towards her. "Eat. You'll feel better. It's even chocolate!"

She laughed weakly, but picked up the spoon anyway.

"There's no way we're letting Slytherin win this year!" James was saying when I turned my attention back to the rest of the table, fervor and excitement restored, all thoughts of our encounter with Snape gone. Sirius, Gideon, and Fabion were cheering, and Alice and Mary were smiling and laughing at them.

"Besides," I told Lily, "sulking isn't nearly as much fun as making fun of this lot, right?"


	17. Chapter 17

Severus Snape. Severus bloody Snape.

I suppose that the idea of seeing him was always there in the back of my mind. I knew that eventually I would, as I always did, see him at the start of term―perhaps on Platform 9 ¾ surrounded by people like Scythen Mulciber and Amycus Carrow, or maybe not until the Prefects meeting on the train, or (as I'm ashamed to admit I had somewhat hoped) maybe I would arrive at Hogwarts to the news that Severus' mother decided that Hogwarts wasn't fit to teach him the advanced level of Potions that he had now reached, and he would be, for his final year, tutored at home by an accomplished Potions master from Albania.

Or something.

But, while I sat in the back corner table of Fortescue's ice cream parlor, trying to tear my thoughts away from anything but Severus, I found myself feeling rather strangely about the entire situation. It was true―seeing Severus there, surrounded by his posse of goons, was enough to make my blood run cold, for a moment. It was enough to make me feel like I'd been punched in the gut―repeatedly―and then had icy cold water poured over my head. But, then I remembered.

"He had to think twice before he...well...chose his way. But he chose it, Lily, and you can't change that."

And perhaps, seeing Severus, his face pulled into contorted rage, knuckles turning white as he gripped his wand, was exactly what I needed to see. Because seeing him like that only confirmed what James had told me before. He chose his way. And the person I saw standing there, hatred burned into the lines on his face, ready to curse James into oblivion―was not the Severus I remembered sitting with by the lake. He was not the Severus who'd once been my best mate.

James had grown up, and, as I was finally able to see―so had Severus.

And I didn't know this Severus.

The epiphany hit me as Alice and Mary laughed at one of Sirius' crude jokes. The laughter was jarring, but I was grateful that it shook me from my thoughts. I had done enough thinking. Forcing a smile, I looked across the table at Alice and Mary, relief washing over me as I realized that soon, the three of us, Emmeline, and Marlene, would be sitting in our dormitory, hunched over some textbook studying for an exam, or reading some gaudy old magazine, or doing something semi-normal again. The past few weeks had been...well, they'd been absolutely mad, to say the least. The disappearances, showing up on James Potter's doorstep, rowing with just about everyone in sight, and then agreeing to trying to become mates with James Potter...the world had truly gone mental.

"Lily?" I blinked, and found myself looking into the dark brown eyes of Mary MacDonald, whose long, blonde-streaked hair had fallen slightly into her face.

"Er...yeah, brilliant," I offered, my eyes darting around the table at the other five people, hoping I hadn't given away the fact that I wasn't paying attention. The expressions I was met with were mixed―half confused and half amused.

James snorted loudly into his ice cream, and before I could glare at him, Alice interjected.

"Mackie was just asking about your summer, Lil," She said, a devious smile playing on her lips.

"For the last bloody time, Alice―don't call me that stupid nickname! How'm I supposed to snag a bloke when you're running around making me sound like a sodding prepubescent boy?" Mary's cheeks puffed out in indignation, but Alice ignored her, the knowing smile now reaching her large, chestnut-colored eyes.

I felt the blood begin to rush to my face, and―Merlin, Alice, don't―

"But from your letters and from what Frank's told me, it seems you've had quite the interesting summer―" I could practically feel Remus, Sirius, and James' eyes staring at me as my cheeks turned traitorously red. Of course she would try to make it sound like I had told her―that there was something going on―and bloody hell, why did I hug the tosser―?

But...wait...

"Frank! Of course!" I interrupted, the blush beginning to drain from my cheeks. Any feeling of embarrassment changed to absolute glee as Alice's face went pale white and then adopted its own rosy hue. "You mentioned quite a bit about Frank in your letters, Alice...I was rather hoping I'd get to see him today..."

"Yeah, we haven't seen Longbottom all summer!" Sirius chimed in, slurping down his sundae, blissfully unaware of the fact that Alice looked like she was either going to pass out or strangle someone. "What's the bugger been up to?"

Alice glared at me, before answering, quite strainedly, "Oh, well...um...we, er..."

"They vacationed together," I provided cheerily, licking the last bit of vanilla ice cream off of my spoon.

"All right, Clarke!" James leaned across the table, reaching out his arm for a enthusiastic high-five, which only caused Alice's face to turn an even more violent shade of red.

"We didn't vacation together," She snapped, ignoring James' outstretched hand. She glared at me murderously before she continued. "We just...er...both happened to be spending our holidays in Morocco...near the same beaches...oh shut up, Black―"

Sirius had convulsed into a fit of laughter, followed quickly by James and I, and pretty soon the entire table, including Alice, was in a fit of hysterics. Half-finished dishes of ice cream lay forgotten on the table to melt as we all chattered away, trying to make up for the past two months. Mary was properly ecstatic when she realized that James and I were the new Heads ("Now Gryffindor is sure to win the House Cup!") and a blushing Alice hastily informed Mary and I that we would hear of her trip to Morocco "Later," which surely meant once James, Sirius, and Remus were no longer within earshot.

A hush came over the table, though, when we began to talk about the disappearances that had been happening. Particularly when Mary, whose mother worked as an editor for the Daily Prophet ("Although," Mary had said resentfully, "She's considering resigning what with all this rubbish the Prophet's spouting out nowadays") informed the five of us that there had been yet another disappearance that had been reported late the past night.

"You lot know Rory McDonnell, yeah?" She asked, looking expectantly around the table.

James scoffed and Sirius rolled his eyes poignantly. "A bit too well, actually. Chaser for Slytherin―nearly bashed my head in with a bludger in fifth year..." Sirius' voice trailed off with disgust at the memory.

"Hang on," I frowned in confusion, "I thought beaters were the ones who―"

"They are, Evans―though I'm surprised you even know that," Sirius interrupted, looking at me in mock approval. "But these are the Slytherins we're talking about, mate. They don't exactly have a perfect record of playing by the rules."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Remus cut me off.

"You were talking about Rory McDonnell," He prodded Mary, whose face had now turned dark.

"Well, his sister's just gone missing," She said, her voice low and ominous. "Kidnapped, they say."

We all gaped at her in shock for a moment.

"B-but―a Slytherin?" Alice sputtered, voicing what we were all thinking.

Mary shook her head. "She wasn't a Slytherin. Ravenclaw, I believe. She was maybe five or six years ahead of us...My mum said her name was Herpla―"

Sirius snorted loudly, causing the rest of us to turn around in surprise. Mary looked thoroughly annoyed to have her big news laughed at. "What the hell, Black?"

Sirius' laughter had escalated, to the point where his shoulders were now moving up and down rapidly, and he looked like he was practically wetting himself. James and Remus looked at him with concern, as though they were worried that their mate had finally cracked.

"Er...you all right there, Padfoot?"

Sirius managed to catch his breath for a moment. "Are―are you―-Herpla?" He started laughing again, nearly falling off his seat. "I'm sorry...but, what kind of a name is that?"

Mary pursed her lips. "For all you know, Herpla is dead, Black."

"Yeah, mate," James scolded, although he was now grinning quite largely and suppressing his own laugh. "Besides, you're not exactly in the best position to be making fun of people's names..."

"I know, I know," Sirius' laughter was beginning to die down. "I mean, siriusly." He burst out into laughter again, this time joined by James and Alice―even Mary cracked a bit of a smile. Remus, however, simply rolled his eyes.

"I didn't realize we were back in first year," He muttered, leering at Sirius and James, whose faces were now turning slight purple for lack of air.

Remus turned to Mary, "I remember her. I believe her name was Hilda, though, Mary―you might want to tell your mum that before they print it in the Prophet." Mary's face turned pink and she shrugged, but Remus' face was scrunched up a bit, as if he were trying to remember something. "I don't know why, but...I think she went by something else...another name―"

"Hang on," Alice interrupted, a look of recognition on her face. "Do―are we―Hills McDonnell? Tall, black hair, grayish eyes?"

"Hills!" Remus cried triumphantly. "Yes, that's her. I remember―she was a prefect our first year, wasn't she?"

"Christ, Moony, how do you remember that?" Sirius looked both amused and impressed.

Remus smiled slightly and shrugged. "I―" But his sentence died on his tongue, and his eyes grew wide. Quickly, I turned to see what he was looking at, across the table.

It was Alice. She looked, well...ghostly. The color had drained from her face, and she wore a hauntingly shocked expression, as though she had just been introduced to a Dementor―her eyes wide, transfixed in an expression of utter fear, her mouth hung open in a silent 'O' shape. "Shit..." she whispered, before standing up suddenly, leaving her melted ice cream dish on the table, and sprinting towards the front door of Fortescue's, ignoring our calls after her. Immediately, I sprung up from the table and dashed after her, out the door and onto the streets of Diagon Alley.

"Alice―hey, Alice! What's―wait up!"

With a loud crack, and without any sort of explanation, Alice apparated in the middle of the street. I stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, ignoring the heaps of cloaked wizards and witches who were now pushing past me in annoyance, trying to make their way through the narrow street. I stood there, staring at the spot she had been just moments before.

"D-d'you think she's alright?" I heard James' voice croak from behind me. I turned around and saw that James, Sirius, Remus, and Mary had all followed Alice as well, each of them standing there with identical looks of shock on their faces.

I swallowed hard. "No."

Alice didn't return for the rest of the day, a fact which worried me more and more as the day grew darker. But, when Mr. and Mrs. Potter showed up around nine o'clock, insisting that in present times it was much too dangerous for underage wizards to be roaming about Diagon Alley after nightfall (despite the fact that Mary, whose birthday was the next week, was the only one of us who was underage,) we had no choice but to leave, hoping that Alice's pallor and look of shock was not as serious as we had assumed it to be.

I still felt sick to my stomach, though.

I couldn't shake my thoughts from Alice, or from Hills McDonnell, the Ravenclaw whose face seemed to look up at me with poise and grace from the front cover of the Daily Prophet.

And that's where I found myself the morning after the trip to Diagon Alley―sitting cross-legged in James' living room, in front of a large stone fireplace, hunched over the latest issue of the Daily Prophet. I yawned widely, feeling the muscles in the back of my jaw pop. I had barely slept the night before, a factor which I attributed mostly to Alice, and also partly because Sirius' snoring was so loud that it thundered across the hall.

"That's her?"

I craned my neck and saw James Potter standing there, clad only in a thin pair of flannel pyjama bottoms, his thin but Quidditch-toned bare torso staring at me. I didn't want to admit it, but there was something about the way he looked right then that made me appreciate just how good-looking James Potter really was. The way his hair stuck straight up at the ends, his broad shoulders, a small faded scar that rested just beneath his rib cage...

A blush rose to my face as I realized I was blatantly ogling James Potter-or at least, that's what it would look like to an uninformed passerby. No, I was merely appreciating James' objective attractiveness, the way one appreciates the beauty of a painting, or a well written phrase, or the way the leaves changed from bright green to golden―that was all. And it was perfectly normal and completely appropriate to find something attractive―objectively, of course―without being attracted to it. Still, my cheeks must have been uninformed of this fact, as the blush on my face refused to disappear. I mumbled something incoherently affirmative, staring fiercely at the ground.

I heard rustling and a movement beside me which I could only assume was James sitting down on the ground next to me, although I still refused to move my eyes from the page.

"Doesn't look much like Rory. She's pretty," James said, looking quietly at the picture.

For some reason, this made me particularly annoyed. "What, was she one of your shags or something?"

James stared at me for a moment, before blinking a few times rapidly. "Yes, Lily. That's why I had no idea who she was or what she looked like until five minutes ago."

It took me a moment to realize he was being sarcastic. My face began to flush again.

"And anyway, you honestly think I'd shag someone named Herpla?"

I began to laugh freely, louder than I had in days, and James and I sat there on the floor, giggling madly at a joke that honestly wasn't that funny, considering the girl had disappeared to Merlin-knows-where. But it was nice, for a minute, to pretend like I didn't have a care in the world, like the disappearances were simply ink on a page and not living, breathing people.

By the time we had finally stopped laughing, though, the mood almost felt more somber, like we were laughing at a funeral or at a sad scene in a film. James looked at the picture for a moment, his emotions unreadable.

"Rory's a pureblood," he said suddenly, running his fingers through his messy hair.

I sighed. "I hate that term," I mumbled. He looked up at me with surprise.

"What, pureblood?"

I nodded slowly, looking at my hands. "It's―I mean, it's the whole concept of Pureblooded-ness. The fact that someone has 'pure blood' means that others' blood―mine, for example, or someone with Muggle blood in them―is somehow impure. Like it's tainted. It's not as blatantly offensive as Mudblood―" James cringed when I said the word, but I continued, "―because the person being called 'pureblooded' isn't the one who's being insulted. But, the sentiment is the same. It still implies that someone's blood is dirty, that someone's blood is...is defiled, somehow. By being Muggleborn. By being like me."

When I finished talking I was met with silence, and I knew that James must have been sitting there thinking that I was overly sensitive, and melodramatic. But I didn't care. Maybe I was too sensitive. But rationale is hard to keep in check when you every day more and more people are disappearing―dying. And I knew James didn't understand―I couldn't blame him for it, honestly. I was glad he didn't understand it, in a way-it wasn't pleasant, nor was it safe.

"Merlin, I never thought about it that way." James looked contemplative for a moment, his elbow propped against his knee, chin resting in the flat of his palm. He looked down at the newspaper for a moment. There was silence between us before he spoke again, a look of contempt lining his features. "How can they be so sodding stupid?"

"Who?"

"Voldemort and his lot," He spat, his eyes narrowed slightly, features growing more and more contemptuous. "How-how could they want to hurt you?"

"It's not just me, James," I interjected quietly. Somehow unable to meet his eyes, I stared at my lap.

"I know." He ran his hand through his uncombed hair rapidly, making his hair even unrulier than usual. He paused for a moment, then lifted his eyes to mine. "I know. I just..." He paused again, taking a deep breath. "I won't let anything happen to you," He said quickly and fervidly, grasping my hand in his. "For as long as I'm alive, Lily."

My throat felt dry. My pulse was quickening, and my face was turning pink, and there were a million things I wanted to say-I wanted to tell him I could take care of myself, I wanted to thank him, I wanted to ask him why he cared so bloody much, and why was my breathing all ragged and why were the tips of my ears turning red? But all I managed to croak out was:

"Why?"

He looked at me incredulously. "Why? Because, Lily. Because I-" He looked down for a moment, and my heart thumped loudly in my ears. "Because we're friends."

He pulled his hand away from me, and turned back towards the newspaper. I hadn't realized I had been holding my breath, but I exhaled slowly, feeling my face drain slightly of color. "Oh," I said, also looking at the ground. "Right."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I hope you all enjoyed chapter 17! I wanted to apologize-Christine and I haven't been updating as frequently as we've said we would, and we're both very sorry for that. We are both in our first semester of college, and haven't had as much time to write as we did over the summer. This doesn't mean that this story is any less important to us! We both feel a very strong connection to this story, and absolutely love writing it, so we will continue to post as we can. We are going to try to adhere to a schedule of about once every two weeks, but we may err from that, from time to time (as you have already seen.)

But, also, there's nothing like reviews to keep us motivated! Please please leave us reviews so we know what you guys are liking/disliking-we want to make this story as good as it can possibly be, and your feedback is extremely important to us. So, please-if you've made it this far (17 chapters in...and we aren't even at Hogwarts yet! But don't worry, that is coming very _very_ soon) then please leave any impressions of the story you have to us, so we know how we're doing.

And thank you all so much for reading. :)

- Megan


	18. Chapter 18

"Oh, thank Merlin, I thought he was going to get me killed!"

Peter threw his arms around my neck, clinging to me like a small child, as I stumbled back against the window of the train, bumping into James as I fell, and Sirius slid the compartment door open behind him, smiling coyly.

"Who, me? I did no such thing."

"He's lying!" Peter squealed. "He was hexing the fifth years in the compartment next to us and blaming me for it. They were half a minute from murdering me and leaving no evidence whatsoever!"

I looked to Sirius, expecting him to jump to his own defense, but he just shrugged and chuckled. "So how was the prefects meeting?"

"Absolute rubbish," James huffed in a high-pitched voice, crossing his arms across his chest in a perfect imitation of Lily. "James did _nothing _to help whatsoever." The resemblance was, in fact, eerily uncanny.

"That bad?"

"It was so bad I tried to convince her to let Moony run it instead of me."

I pushed past Peter and Sirius into the compartment they'd reserved and flooded with candy wrappers while we'd been in our meeting, and slumped down on the seat, hoping in vain that the other three would let me sleep the rest of the way to school.

"So, where is the Head Girl, anyway?" Sirius asked, sitting next to me.

"Off complaining about me to her friends, I'd expect," James answered, picking up a pumpkin pasty from the seat by the door. "Can I have this?" He bit into it and then sat down, still talking even with his mouth full. "I don't know what her problem is. Yesterday she accused me of shagging that Herpla girl, got all up in arms about my using the term 'pureblood.' Now she's two seconds from asking Dumbledore to replace me as Head Boy, and we haven't even gotten to Hogwarts yet."

"That's not so unusual, mate," Sirius offered, tearing open a chocolate frog. "You want some of this, Moony?"

I took the frog from him, my stomach thankful for the chocolate, but my raging headache not thankful for the continuing conversation.

"But, that's the thing, isn't it? She spent a month at my house and the second we get around anyone else from school she's got to pretend that nothing's changed?"

"Nothing _has _changed-"

"Wait, Prongs," Peter interrupted, "You shagged a girl named Herpla?"

"Her name isn't bloody Herpla!" I growled through my mouthful of chocolate.

"Blimey, Moony," Peter blinked, still standing in the doorway. "Are you okay? What's wrong, wasn't the full moon a week ago?"

What was wrong with me was that, as much as I loved Hogwarts, I was going back to a place where I was constantly overwhelmed by a fear, nagging in the back of my mind, that someone was going to discover my secret - a fear that I'd been able to ignore all summer with just James, Sirius, Peter, and Lily, but that was brought back to the forefront of my mind the second I stepped onto the platform to be surrounded by other students, unwitting students who wouldn't be smiling near as large if they knew there was a horrible beast, a Dark Creature, standing in their midst, soon to be dining with them, learning with them, living with them. Surrounded by their parents, who would surely withdraw them from the school if they knew what I was. Surrounded by boys holding Slytherin scarves, friends of Severus, the primary people I'd been worried would find out ever since Severus himself found out in fifth year.

The first time I came to Kings Cross with my dad to board the Hogwarts Express I'd felt nothing but terror, and ever since I'd struggled to feel anything but on the first day of term, wishing I could experience the joy and excitement everyone else seemed to feel. And so, as it happened when I was anxious, I felt the wolf in the back of my throat, snarling and snapping at everything, pushing me to shout as I shut my eyes and tried to swallow him.

But, of course, these were familiar feelings, things I could get over if I ignored them long enough, things that wouldn't matter quite so much when I was safe in my four poster bed in Gryffindor tower, and so I wouldn't tell them. Instead I half-smiled and mumbled, "headache. Gonna try to sleep," closed my eyes, and leaned my head against the cold window.

I was envious of them, as I often was: of their freedom to be carefree, of the effortless smiles on their faces, of stupid things like their short sleeves and scar-free flesh. And as much as I dearly loved my best friends, it was times like these when I just wanted to close my eyes and pretend I didn't exist.

I must have actually fallen asleep somewhere around Sirius' fifth or sixth bag of Every-Flavoured Beans ("I keep getting sodding _kale,_" he kept complaining, once or twice a bag) because he shook me awake as the train slowed to a stop and nearly yanked my out of the seat, grinning, "Mate, we're here!"

As they chatted all the way up to the castle, cheered for the newly-sorted Gryffindors, and gorged themselves on the grand feast that awaited us, I felt progressively more and more sick, a nagging voice in my mind begging to curl up, safely tucked away behind the crimson curtains of my four-poster bed. But the evening dragged on and on, until finally we trudged up the stairs to the tower, Sirius and Peter pushing their way mercilessly through the crowd of new first-years, earning glares from Lily as she tried to guide them up the changing staircases. Not quite soon enough, I was buried in the familiar blankets, hoping to fade into sleep as quickly as possible, the thick curtains and a charm or two blocking out the light and sound of the other four boys unpacking and discussing their summers.

I shut my eyes and pulled the cover over my head, and was finally drifting off when someone yanked the curtains back from my bed.

I groaned, pulling the pillow over my head, and the curtain closed again, but the bed creaked and sunk down as Sirius sat next to me, and even with my eyes closed, I could picture him, legs crossed, a wide grin on his face.

"Go 'way," I mumbled, but he pulled the blanket back from my face.

"Moony," he said, quietly.

I turned over and looked at the curtain opposite him.

"Moony," he repeated, grabbing my face and turning it gently towards him. I tried not to notice the way goosebumps rose on the skin of my arms, even under the warm blankets. "Are you okay?"

"'M fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Tired."

"Okay."

He let go of my face and started to move, but hesitated. "Hey, Moony?"

"Yeah."

"Welcome home."

"But Mister Black," Professor McGonagall was saying when I trudged into the Great Hall the next morning, still half asleep. "I thought you had intended to become an Auror. You'll need a N.E.W.T. in Potions even to apply."

"Sod Auror. Nothing is getting me back into that class."

"Mister Black-"

I sat down next to James, who shot me a skeptical look and handed me his schedule and a goblet of pumpkin juice.

"I'll be a curse breaker for Gringotts," Sirius argued. "I've got the classes for that, don't I? Professor Vector's already told me she'll let me into Advanced Arithmancy Studies even though my O.W.L.s were rubbish, I've got Ancient Runes and Transfiguration and Charms and Defense Against-"

"Yes, Mister Black, you have the classes you'd need to become a curse-"

"So that's it, then. No need to add Potions."

"Well, I suppose-"

I looked down at the parchment in my hand, trying to block out the conversation to see what James would taking, hoping that most of our classes would overlap, but Sirius' impossibly loud voice rose above the sound of my own thoughts, drowning them out completely.

"So what's the bloody problem, then, Professor?"

I glanced up from the parchment just in time to see Professor McGonagall look down at the parchment in her hands, swallow, purse her lips, and very quietly say, "I just always thought you'd make quite the Auror, Mister Black," place the parchment on the table, and turn on her heel.

She handed me my own schedule as she passed, mumbling, "I trust all is well with you, Mister Lupin."

I barely even had time to look at my own schedule before Sirius plopped down next to me, sighing heavily.

"Why so opposed to Potions, Padfoot?" James asked, grabbing my schedule from my hands to examine it.

"It's that wanker Slughorn. I've put up with six years of him telling me he 'wishes he'd gotten the lot of the Blacks,' like I'm a bloody trophy or something. He hates me almost as much as the rest of the Blacks do for being in Gryffindor. I'm done with it."

"Well, we'll miss you first block today, mate," James said. "Moony and I've both got double with the Slytherins, and Wormtail's in Advanced Herbology all morning, so you'll have to make your mischief without us."

"I'll see you lot for Arithmancy, though?"

"Of course, mate."

He sighed and started filling a plate with food. "I'll be glad for the extra time to sleep in, though, while you lot get up bright and early to go down to the dungeons. I don't envy you that at all."

"Sleep?" joked James. "You can't spend that time sleeping, you've got to spend it plotting! This is our last year, Padfoot, and the pranks have got to be bigger and better than ever, haven't they? I've got a list made up already, just trying to figure out the technicalities of how to turn Professor Binns magenta..."

Sirius snorted into his oatmeal as James continued.

"And I want to see if I can get the giant squid to serenade Snivellus every time he walks past the lake, and I've got to see the best way to convince the thestrals to carry banners for me-"

Double Potions with the Slytherins, like every other year, proved to be problematic. When Professor Slughorn announced that he was planning to pair us up differently this year, the room went tense.

"Instead of letting you choose your own partners this year, or pairing up the best with the best and the worst with the worst, I'm going to be pairing together students of different skill levels so that hopefully the more naturally talented students can help those who are... less inclined to Potions."

I almost felt him looking at me with his last statement, and James snickered - the two of us may have been the worst at Potions in our year, but his determination to be an Auror and my stubborn reluctance to fail had kept us in this class long past our time.

"Once I've named your partners, the two of you should pick a cauldron together. First, Frank Longbottom and Antonin Dolohov. Next, Alecto Carrow and Emmeline Vance. Lily Evans and-"

From my other side, Lily elbowed me in the arm and mumbled, "you and me, hopefully."

It was no question that Lily was the best in our year at Potions. She excelled at it, for some mystical reason that had always eluded me. And I, as the worst by far, would be her logical partner. I crossed my fingers under the table and smiled at her.

"James Potter."

Lily sighed, a sour look crossing her face as she picked up her bag and moved to the front of the room. James, on the other hand, whooped audibly, practically cheering as joined her. She glanced at me, and I shot her a sympathetic look that was cut short when I heard my own name.

I looked about the room for a possible partner, anyone as good at Potions as I was rubbish. Marlene McKinnon was fairly skilled, and wouldn't be a bad partner at all. Even Megara Greengrass wouldn't have been bad, even if she was dating Walden Macnair.

But, just my luck, Slughorn finished his sentence with the one name I'd been dreading. "And Severus Snape."

He glared at me as we headed for our cauldron, and I swear he purposefully dropped his bag, heavy with books, onto my foot. As Slughorn finished pairing off the remaining few students, Severus leaned towards me and sneered, in a low voice, "Shall I ask him to teach us how to brew a Wolfsbane?"

"Severus-" I tried to concede, but he cut me off.

"Hopefully your absolute ineptitude at Potions will be less threatening to my life than your contemptible friends or your... disease."

I felt my own fist clenching under the table and bit my lip to suppress the insults forming in the back of my throat, and just as I opened my bag to retrieve my textbook, praying for some divine intervention, the dungeon door creaked open.

"Can I help you, Minerva?" Slughorn asked.

"Professor Dumbledore would like a word with Mister Lupin, if you wouldn't mind sparing him for the remainder of class."

"No, of course not. On your way, then, Mister Lupin. Severus will surely catch you up on what you missed before the next lesson."

I grabbed my bag and hastily exited the room, following closely behind Professor McGonagall as she lead me up the familiar path towards the headmaster's office. Why, though, would Dumbledore need to see me so early in the year? I couldn't have been in trouble, I hadn't had time to do anything against the rules. Unless Sirius, in his free period, had already managed to get expelled and somehow involve me.

As if she'd read my mind, McGonagall assured me, "You're not in trouble yet, Mister Lupin. Professor Dumbledore would just like a brief word is all."

She left me at the stone gargoyle, muttering "toffee drops" as she departed, leaving me to descend the spiral staircase on my own.

"Professor?" I asked, entering the office.

"Ah, Remus," he greeted me. He sounded tired, looked warn, and I was surprised I hadn't noticed at the feast the night before. "Have a seat." He pressed his fingertips together just under his half-moon glasses as I sat, and once I was still, he began.

"No need to be alarmed. Everything is fine. I'm having this conversation with most of the students here this year. Remus, I know that your mother is a muggle, and that your father is currently sick and in St. Mungo's and would be unable to protect her in the case of an attack. With the world in the condition that it is, I'd like to offer you my protection for them. Your father is safe in hospital, and I can cast a series of spells over your home to keep your mother safe, notify her that she will be under a certain level of surveillance to ensure her safety at all times while you are here at school, and assure her of your absolute safety while you remain at Hogwarts. All I need is a request from you that I do this."

I thought back to mum and dad, who I hadn't seen since the beginning of July when James and Sirius had whisked me off to James' for the remainder of the summer. Mum hadn't been too keen that I'd left her on her own, especially when St. Mungo's rarely allowed muggle visitors, but she'd insisted that I go with my friends, have a nice summer and a nice final school year. I knew it was a kindness for me, I knew she was aware that this would likely be the last enjoyable year I ever had with my condition, but I'd felt guilty ever since I'd left.

This protection Dumbledore was offering... It was probably for the best, I told myself, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to admit that my mother wasn't safe. Mum was one of the strongest people I knew. She'd be the one to hold me after every transformation, even when she still hadn't grown to accept the fact that her son was part monster, she'd push my hair off of my forehead and sing to me... But Dumbledore was right, a muggle stood no chance against a powerful Dark wizard, and it was the least I could do to give her whatever protection I could.

"Could I write to her? To my mum? Ask her if she wants it..."

"You may, of course. Just inform me when you've made your decision."

"Thank you," I said, as I stood up to leave, but face to face with Dumbledore something else that had been eating at me had to be said. "One more thing, Professor."

"You want to know why you were not made Head Boy, am I correct? I simply assumed that the responsibility would be too great to add on top of your illness. Surely the Prefects would notice you'd be missing regular patrols and meetings, and I felt that most of our Prefects would be bright enough to notice a pattern. So I thought it for the best to assign someone else the position. Was that presumptuous of me?"

"No, Professor," I conceded. "You're right."

Lily found me in the library after she got out of Potions, her hair mussed out of place, her face red and flustered.

"I _cannot_ believe him!" She sputtered, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "He thinks that just because Dumbledore gave him a bit of power that he can go parading about the school like an _arse_-"

"What did he do this time, then?" I asked, pulling the chair next to me out and gesturing for her to sit. It felt as if almost everything was back to normal, with Sirius researching for pranks and Lily complaining to me about James. It was times like these I felt like I was just another teenager suffering through normal everyday trials.

Lily paused for a moment. "It's not so much as something he's _done_ specifically. He's just been more of a prat than usual. And that's _saying_ something, Remus."

"I suppose Potions didn't go to well, then. D'you reckon Slughorn would let us switch partners if we begged?"

She snorted loudly. "Remus, even Slughorn isn't daft enough to pair up James with Sev. I mean-" She stopped abruptly, looking horrified. "Snape."

"Might do both of us a favor if they killed each other, though, wouldn't it?" I joked, hoping to diffuse the tension. She forced a laugh, awkward and strained.

She looked down at her hands. "I don't know, Remus," she said softly, her voice growing somber. "I don't know if I can do this. It's like... James looks at me sometimes and I could swear, for a moment, I see an _actual_ person." She looked thoughtful. "But then he turns around and does something completely daft, and then the old James is back again, ready to hex someone's face purple or turn a corridor into an ice skating rink."

"Well, Lil, contrary to popular belief he _is _an actual person."

She crossed her arms and bit her lip, so I continued.

"And, despite whatever flaws he might have, he's an actual person who sincerely cares about you. Don't you remember how worried he was when you went off alone?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by a loud crash, the sound of a tall stack of books falling off a shelf. Moments later, a shocked Sirius Black rounded the corner, four or five large books in his hands.

"How do you carry this many books at once, Moony? I mean, you carry like ten of these everywhere you go, and I can barely keep hold of this lot."

He wandered back off around the corner, mumbling to himself, the books still slipping out of his arms."

"Well," Lily crossed her arms, a strange mixture of amusement and annoyance on her face. "I do believe that's the first time I've seen Sirius Black grace the library with his noble presence."

"I believe he's looking up spells to turn ghosts multicolored."

Lily bit back a smirk, trying, and failing, to look stern. "I suppose he would be. And I wonder whose idea _that_ was?"

"What would you say if I told you it was mine this time?"

She paused. "Well... I suppose I would tell you to check _Curses and Counter-Curses_, 5th edition."

I hadn't ever seen such a sly, devious look in the eyes of Lily Evans. "Padfoot," I called over my shoulder, "try _Curses and Counter-Curses._"

Lily smirked in triumph when, after a few muffled seconds of page-turning, Sirius called out, "Oi! Nice call, Moony, I think this is the one."

"Yes, well done, Remus," Lily teased, scooping up her bag of books. "But you realize if I catch you all using said curse, that I'll have to report you? Head Girl code." She began to leave, but stopped just before she reached the door, and turned around to face me. "So, try to do it near the Slytherin common room, eh?"

For a moment, I realized exactly why James found Lily so enchanting.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: **I am so, desperately, terribly sorry that this is so late! I've been sick, and essays and BLARGH. But, a dear friend of mine (shoutout to Rosie O.!) kept pushing me to finish and so this chapter is dedicated to her!

As always, please R/Rv!

- Megan

**[EDIT]: **There has been some confusion about the timeline of the story so I wanted to take the opportunity to explain it here. The scene at Diagon Alley takes place the day before they leave for Hogwarts, or August 31. Remus' chapter starts the morning of September 1st, their first day at Hogwarts, while they're on the train. Chapters 18 and 19 are not linear. This chapter picks back up the night before they leave for Hogwarts, and stops right before Remus' chapter begins. I went back because I wanted to show that one moment between James and Lily the night they leave for Hogwarts to show a sort of twist in their relationship (this is also why they go back to referring to each other as "Potter" and "Evans" at different points in the past two chapters.) Lily is beginning to recognize that she is starting to care for James, and she doesn't like it, and so she automatically puts up a wall between herself and him. She gets frustrated with him because she's confused about how she feels towards him, and about what their relationship/friendship status even is. Remus doesn't see this because, obviously, he's not Lily or James, but that's why I wanted to go back in time, so to speak, in this chapter to show this development without making chapter 17 too long or infringing upon Remus' chapter. From Chapter 20 onwards, the timeline will be moving forward. I'm sorry if this caused anyone any confusion! Thanks as always for reading and reviewing, and enjoy!

- Megan

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19<strong>

The first of September was always my favorite day of the year. It was the excitement of it all: the fresh smell of new robes, empty parchment waiting to be filled, the illusion of a new beginning. I barely slept the night before-partly out of pure anticipation, and partly because James had begun a new Qudditch training routine, which involved waking up at varied hours of the night and performing a variety of, usually loud, exercises. Apparently, part of his training routine included popping his head into my room whenever he walked past it to see if I was still sleeping. Unfortunately, I never was.

"What are you doing awake at this hour, Evans? Beauty sleep too conventional for you?" James had whispered rather loudly, only the silhouette of his head visible in the dark frame of the doorway. I groaned internally, glancing over to the antique bedside clock to my right. 2:33.

"Piss off, Potter. I'm sleeping."

"No," he chuckled softly, "You've been awake. You weren't snoring."

At this I sprung up from my pillow. "I don't _snore_, you prat."

"You're right," he conceded, "You don't. But you're awake now, aren't you?"

I glowered in the darkness for a few moments, my face drooping slightly for lack of sleep. I could barely make out the details of his face, but could recognize his smirk instantly, even in the dimly lit room. For some reason, this didn't bother me as much as I wanted it to. I sighed.

"Well, come on then," I grumbled, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Come on what?"

"Get your arse over here, Potter. You're going to entertain me."

"Well, I can think of a few ways-"

"Stop," I interrupted, rolling my eyes at his flamboyantly suggestive tone.

"Stop what?" He feigned innocence horribly.

"Stop _doing _that," I snapped, suddenly wide awake. "It drives me bloody mad-it always has, and you still keep doing it!"

"Doing what?" He demanded, almost automatically.

"You _know _what," I snapped. "Stop acting like...like you fancy me, or something, when you don't!" I sounded angrier than I intended to, but James didn't snap back. Even in the darkness, I could see the shock written plainly on his face-his eyebrows shot up instantly, vanishing behind his mussed-up fringe, and for once, no trace of a smirk was visible on his lips.

Unnerving silence emanated through the room-the kind of silence where each breath I took seemed amplified a thousand times, and I could hear my heart thumping loudly against my rib cage. I don't know what made me say it. James'...I suppose you would call them "flirtations" -had always bothered me, but there was something about being around him the past few weeks that set me on edge whenever I saw him. I'd always taken for granted the fact that James was just infuriatingly annoying-but perhaps what really bothered me was that, deep down, I always assumed he was insincere.

I mean, the way he would ask me out in those grandeur ways back in fourth and fifth year-professing his love on top of a table in the Great Hall, owling me a card at breakfast that was bewitched to sing old Muggle love songs at me-that day in 5th year he asked me out while dangling my friend by his ankle...it was so unlike like the boys who asked Mary or Marlene out. _Those_ boys were always timid and nervous, barely managing to sputter out a "Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?" Not like James-parading around the school, as if him asking me on a date was some big _favor_to me. Sometimes-most of the time, actually-I felt like it was all just a big joke.

He didn't do that as much anymore, I had to admit. He hadn't asked me out once since I'd gotten to his house, which reinforced my belief even further-James didn't have feelings for me. Remus and Sirius weren't able to see it because James was acting so kind to me, but I had noticed a change in James and knew that must have been what it was. James was my friend-or he wanted to be, at least. And I couldn't decide if I was relieved or not.

I felt the mattress beneath my feet sink down a little, and I looked up. James sat quietly on the edge of the bed, hands loosely folded in his lap, his gaze towards his feet. He cleared his throat.

"Lily, I'm not-"

"James," I suddenly sounded much more tired. "Just...please."

He ruffled his hand through his hair, the way that always annoyed me to no end. But for some reason, at that moment, it just made me feel glum. He sighed.

"If that's what you want, then fine..."

My eyelids felt heavy, and I could finally feel sleep creeping through my body. The weight of James near my feet disappeared suddenly, and my heels sprung up slightly as I heard his footsteps walk steadily towards the door. They stopped suddenly, and I could just barely see his silhouette lingering by the open door through my nearly-closed eyes.

"Lily," A voice whispered that I barely registered as sleep began to take hold of me. "I'm not acting."

* * *

><p>"REMUS? HAVE YOU SEEN MY BLOODY TIE?"<p>

I didn't want to open my eyes. Sunshine was soaking through my eyelids and my body was vaguely aware that I had to get up, but my bed was so comfortable and my practically sleepless night was immediately taking an effect on my body. _Why am I so tired?_ I thought to myself, pulling the comforter farther over my head. _I just couldn't get to sleep and then James-_

I snapped my eyes open and sprung up, throwing the covers off of my face and the front half of my body. _James_. _He was in here last night._ My face flushed red as I tried to remember Most of it was hazy, and I could really only remember bits and pieces of our conversation. I remembered being annoyed. I remembered telling James to-_oh, God._

My heart skipped a beat. _I'm not acting. I'm not acting. I'm not acting._ He repeated it over and over in my mind. _I'm not acting. _Did he actually mean that? Could he have been genuine? It was hard to remember the rest of the details, but I don't think I had said anything...it was all so difficult to remember...I mean, I had been half-asleep the entire time...

_Oh._ Realization hit me like a brick wall. _Of course._ I had been dreaming. I must have been asleep. I-I had probably dreamed up that entire conversation! James never came into my room, never sat on my bed, never told me that he had any feelings for me...it was a dream. It must have been. Because, in dreams nothing makes any sense, and talking like that with James Potter most certainly did _not_make sense. It was a dream.

I felt like a weight was lifted off of my shoulders, and suddenly the morning seemed much cheerier, my bones less tired, the day much brighter. I didn't even stop to question why I would be dreaming of James Potter, or why James was unusually cordial to me at breakfast the next morning, or why Sirius moved his eyes rapidly between James and I, glancing over at me every few seconds.

"Can I _help _you with something, Black?" I asked sweetly, well aware of Mrs. Potter, who was sitting just a few feet over at the kitchen table, making her coffee stir itself.

Sirius' eyes flashed for a moment, before he grumbled incoherently, stabbing a bit of egg with his fork and shoving it into his mouth. I looked over at Remus, who was staring intently at his plate, eyes lined with dark circles and rimmed red. He looked like he had barely slept that night-I wondered if he was nervous about school beginning. He had confided in me, at the beginning of sixth year, that the beginning of school was always a very anxiety-ridden time for him. He told me he would have elaborate nightmares about someone discovering his secret, and being forced to leave Hogwarts. I wondered if that had happened last night.

Someone cleared his throat. I looked up, and found James looking at me again. His eyes darted away quickly, and I felt my face flush. _He couldn't know about the dream...could he?_ I took a swig of orange juice and hoped that I wasn't blushing. What was _wrong _with me? Why did I care, all of a sudden, what James Potter thought?

"So..." I jumped up slightly as Remus' voice broke the silence in the room. _Merlin_, I was losing it. There was no reason for me to feel nervous and giddy and like my chest was about to explode, but with each moment that passed I couldn't help but feel like I wanted to leap up from my chair and bolt from the room as fast as I possibly could. _It must be the Head Girl thing_, I rationalized, trying to will my pulse to slow down, _It's a big responsibility. More than I've ever had before. It's important that I take it as seriously as I can._

"Lily?"

I snapped my head around, and found three pairs of eyes looking at me. Frowning, I looked from Remus, to Sirius, and finally to James. Silence greeted me.

"Er...yes?" I wasn't sure who to look at. I suppose I had been spacing out a bit lately, and apparently my lack of sleep exacerbated this.

Remus furrowed his eyebrows, giving me a concerned look. "I was asking if you're all packed?"

"Yes, yes, of course," I replied a little too quickly, waving my hand impatiently. "I've been packed for ages. And, anyway, it's already-" I glanced down at my watch and gasped loudly. "It's almost ten-thirty! We need to leave!"

"Calm down, Ginge. We're using magic-ever heard of that?" Sirius grumbled over a bit of toast.

I scowled, and crossed my arms tightly across my chest, pursing my lips tightly with the best Petunia impression I could muster.

"Just because _you_ don't take anything seriously, Black, doesn't mean the _rest _of us-"

"Well that was quite a delicious breakfast, Mrs. Potter!" Remus interrupted me loudly with a false cheeriness in his voice. Sirius and I remained scowling at each other for a few moments while Mrs. Potter thanked Remus for the compliment. The longer I studied his face, the more I realized that he looked as if he had barely gotten any sleep either. His handsome face looked paler than normal, his eyelids drooping a bit as he regarded me. Funny, considering he slept until nearly ten o'clock.

I barely spoke a word to anyone until we got on the train, other than to thank Mr. and Mrs. Potter for their kindness and hospitality (to which Mr. Potter replied, winking at a beet-red James, that he hoped he'd be seeing a lot more of me) and to remind James and Remus of the prefect meeting which would commence promptly fifteen minutes after the train departed.

We each apparated to a large grove of trees in a park just a five minutes' walk from Kings Cross. It was the first time my parents (and a begrudging Petunia) hadn't come to see me off at the train station, and realizing this, I felt a twinge of sadness at the fact that I wouldn't be seeing them for a few more months. _And even then_, I realized, shuddering, _I'll be watching Petunia walk down the aisle_.

We walked to the train station in near-silence, each of us, it seemed, lost in our own thoughts. James was looking particularly contemplative. _Probably planning out his first prank of the year_, I groaned internally.

When we reached the train station, our shoes clacking loudly against the smooth marble floors, pushing our luggage in front of us on the steel-rod trolleys, the columns surrounding us in a grandeur sort of way, I immediately began to search for Alice, hoping for even the slightest glimpse of her dark chestnut hair through the familiar crowd of people. I hadn't seen her since she left Diagon Alley hurriedly, a shocked look on her face, seeming as though her blood had turned to ice.

But, the crowd in the lobby of the station was far too thick, the buzz of voices too loud, and Remus was tugging on the sleeve of my coat, gesturing for me to follow him, Sirius, and James. After a few strong pushes on my trolley (which was exceedingly difficult, particularly because Zephyr was beating his wings rapidly against his cage, causing the entirety of the trolley to shake violently) we found ourselves at the entrance to Platform 9 ¾.

"Ladies first," James gestured grandly with a wink, outstretching his arm in front of me. Rolling my eyes, I positioned my trolley facing the column, broke into a run, and shut my eyes. I never liked to watch my body pass through the stone-it always made me feel transparent, as though I was momentarily transformed into a ghost.

When I felt the cool air of the platform spitting against my face, I finally squinted open my eyes. A sea of black robes greeted me-young witches and wizards being ushered onto the train by teary-eyed parents, teenaged ones gathered in groups, laughing merrily and animatedly recanting the events of the summer. I suddenly felt very alone.

"LILY EVANS!" My head snapped up, and before my vision could focus, my body was suddenly hit with the full force of Alice Clarke, whose arms wrapped tightly around me. "Blimey, it's so great to see you again!"

"Alice!" I gasped as she squeezed me tighter before pulling away. "It's great to see you too! I-er-how are you?"

Her smile faltered a little bit, and she shrugged.

"Look, about Diagon Alley-"

She held up a finger to her lips to shush me, and subtly nodded her head to the left. I followed her gesture, and saw her very pale, very anxious-looking mother standing just a few feet behind her. _Later_, she mouthed. I gulped, nodding quickly.

"Shall we find a compartment?" I offered, slightly croaking.

She smiled slightly and nodded, and after she planted a quick kiss on her mother's cheek, we hurried towards the train together. I looked slightly over my shoulder as we walked toward the train, and saw Remus, James, and Sirius huddled together with Frank Longbottom. When I looked forward again, I noticed Alice glancing warily backwards, and I couldn't help but smile.

"So…you and Frank…?" I giggled slightly when her face began to turn red.

"_Later_, Lily," She admonished me, unable to hide the small grin on her lips, "Once we get on the train. Merlin!"

We found a compartment near the back of the train that was completely empty, and as soon as Alice closed the door I couldn't help but burst with questions.

"What's been going on, Alice? Do you know that girl who went missing or something? I was worried out of my _mind_, just so you're quite aware!"

"I know, Lily." With a weary expression on her face, Alice sunk down onto the cushion across from me. She took a deep breath, and sighed slowly. She paused.

"Well…?" I pushed, well aware that I was pestering her.

"It's complicated, Lily," She said slowly, carefully articulating each word. "I'm not even supposed to—well, it doesn't matter, I s'pose. The girl—Hills McDonnell—you remember her, yeah?"

"Of course," I said quickly, nodding fervently.

"She's—well she was—I mean—she's my brother's fiancée."

My eyebrows shot up. "Oh. I'm—wow. I'm so sorry, Alice. Did you…know her well?"

She looked down at the ground. "No. Not particularly. She—Merlin, I know I'm not supposed to be telling anyone this, but sod it. She and David are both members of the Order of the Pheonix." Her voice dropped into barely above a whisper at these words, and my eyes widened automatically.

"She and my brother—they were on a mission together. I don't—" She sounded flustered now, her voice sounding a bit higher and pleading. "I dunno what they were doing. But they were supposed to be together, and for some reason, David had to leave to go on some top-secret _whatever_—I dunno why not even his _family_ is allowed to—" She hissed bitterly, losing her train of thought for a moment, before shaking her head quickly. "Anyway, when he got back she was gone. The dark mark was over the place where they had been. And he—I mean, the people in the Order, as well—reckon that, for whatever reason, they were going after _him_."

I covered my mouth and tried to keep myself from gasping audibly. Tears were beginning to brim in Alice's eyes, and instinctively I reached over to her and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Oh, Alice," I whispered, rubbing her back gently as she cried quietly into my shoulder. "I'm so, so sorry. If there's anything—"

"There's not," she murmured against my shoulder. She sniffed, and pulled her head away from my shoulder. "Thanks for listening, though. I mean…you're really a great friend, Lil. I don't know what I'd do…" Her voice cracked and she looked as though she was going to start crying again.

Before I could respond, a large bang sounded as the door to the compartment slammed open, and James, Sirius, and a sheepish-looking Remus burst into the small space.

"Hello ladies," James said loudly, stretching his arms across the doorway of the compartment. "Mind if we join you?"

Alice quickly wiped her eyes, looking downward, away from the boys. "Not at all." She said, forcing a weak smile. Oblivious, James sat down next to me and slung his arm around me. Immediately, I stood up, and heading towards the door.

"Oi! Evans! Where're you going?" James cried out in mock outrage, his annoying lopsided smile plastered on his face.

"Prefects meeting, _Potter_," I responded icily. "You know—the one you're supposed to be co-running?"

His smirk faltered. "Oh—erm—yeah. Of course. Be right there."

I raised an eyebrow, and slowly put my hands on my hips.

"Er—now. I'll go now," He said nervously, immediately jumping up from his seat. Sirius rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and Remus couldn't help but chuckle.

Pulling the door shut behind me, smiling slightly, I began to walk towards the end of the train. I heard the clock outside chime 11 o'clock, and felt the force of the train moving forward beneath my feet. I smiled. Perhaps this year wouldn't wind up as bad as it started.


	20. Chapter 20

The year began smoothly, unremarkable, just like any other year save the quiet murmurs that told of more disappearances, the solemn faces at breakfast over articles from the Daily Prophet. Homework piled high, the common room bustled with excitement, first years wandered the hallway lost having taken the wrong staircase, and soon, far too soon for my liking, quidditch season was beginning.

If Sirius and James' obsessive conversation hadn't been enough of a clue that it was nearly here, had their countdown to tryouts not clued me into the fact that the upcoming weekend was the official start of the quidditch season, the fact that the air in the great hall was tangibly sparking with excitement Saturday morning as I tried to eat my toast in peace surely did. As did Fabion and Gideon ambushing me from either side, decked out in grins and Gryffindor regalia, asking in one voice, "is James up yet? Two hours 'til tryouts!"

With the addition of Benjy Fenwick to the table, who was rambling to me about the Asgard 6000 — the new broom he'd just gotten, saved up for all summer until he could finally afford one, worked his ass off in his dad's bookstore because the superior maneuvering skills were just so worth the time and effort and we'd be _sure_ to beat Slytherin with one on our team — most of the established team was already there, impatiently awaiting James and Sirius. The team, I knew, was lacking a Keeper and a Seeker, both of whom had graduated the year before after a devastating loss to Slytherin in the final match of the year, losing the cup by a mere ten points. But James was determined to win this year, as he kept telling me. Was determined to train them harder until there was no possible way Gryffindor could lose. He wouldn't graduate, he kept declaring, without a win under his Captaincy.

"You're coming to watch tryouts, right?" James asked me as he sat down, loading his plate up with food.

"Of course he is," Sirius countered. "I'm just trying to convince him that he can stay on a broom long enough to be out keeper!"

"No," I responded, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

"You don't have to sound so sullen, Moony. He's joking. We may be your mates, but there's no way we'd risk out chance at the cup to let you on the team."

"No, I'm not coming to watch tryouts," I clarified.

"You _what?"_

"I've got detention."

"You got detention without me?" Sirius exclaimed, looking dejected.

"Burnt a hole through my fifth cauldron yesterday. Slughorn'll have me dusting off picture frames in his office, probably."

"Your _fifth? _Merlin, is Snivellus cursing them or something?"

"He must be. Moony, that's ridiculous."

"I think," I corrected them, "I'm just that bad at Potions."

"Well there's no way you're missing tryouts, detention or not. I'll have a word with good ol' Sluggy," James offered. "He'll listen to me."

"Sadly, not even the Great Potter will be able to convince him that I'm worth anything but cleaning off his shelves. Look, don't worry about me. Have fun at tryouts, find a great Keeper and Seeker, and I'll see you all at dinner."

"Moooooooooooony," Sirius whined, "you haaaaaaave to come!"

"Have to come to what?"

"Quidditch tryouts, Evans," James replied, not missing a beat as Lily appeared over his shoulder. "Are you coming? We're looking for two new players."

"Not a chance, Potter."

"As if Evans could handle herself on a broomstick," Sirius laughed, and while I felt slightly for Lily, I was mostly just glad to have their attention away from me so I could slip away from the table.

The common room, with its windows thrown open to let in the cool fall air, was far too bright and far too loud in comparison to the dreary dungeon where I'd spent most of my day polishing cauldrons and sorting ingredients. Book in hand, curled in the armchair nearest the roaring fire, I could already feel a headache coming on when the newly formed Gryffindor quidditch team came bounding in, excited to celebrate the initiation of their newest members.

"Fellow Gryffindorians," James announced dramatically, climbing up to stand on the coffee table where the entire common room could see and hear him.

"I think Gryffindors is sufficient," I remarked in response, though he didn't seem to hear me.

"I introduce to you your newest heroes, this year's additions to the quidditch team. Our lovely Seeker, fourth year Cordelia Winters!" He gestured to a pretty blonde girl who stood by the entrance to the common room next to Benjy, who raised her arm in celebration and whooped loudly. "And our fantastic Keeper, the beautiful Marlene McKinnon, with seventeen straight saves against yours truly in under ten minutes!"

Marlene smiled proudly, while her friends and several of the younger students near her congratulated her.

"But first," James continued, "Cordelia and Marlene, you must undergo the ceremonial Gruffindor quidditch initiation before we can consider you members of the team. Each member currently on the team has taken part in this ritual, and so must the two of you. Sirius, the hat."

Sirius stepped forward, gleefully, bearing a hat filled to the brim with folded pieces of paper. "In this hat," he explained, "are the names of every member of our three opposing teams. Each Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin quidditch player is represented here."

"You must draw a name from the hat," Fabion said.

"And tell us who you've picked," Gideon continued for him.

"And once you've done that we'll reveal to you your task," Benjy finished, an evil smile crossing his face.

"So step on up, the both of you, and choose your fate."

"If you fail to complete the task," Sirius warned as the two girls reached into the hat, "you won't be allowed on the team, and you'll force the rest of us to have a losing season. We're convinced that's why we lost last year. The beater we picked before Benjy couldn't bring herself to accomplish the task. So don't choose a name unless you swear you'll do it."

Cordelia slowly unfolded her paper and read, "Hal Summers."

"Ravenclaw Keeper," Gideon remarked, looking at the paper over her shoulder. "What about you, Marlene?"

"Regulus Black. Slytherin Chaser."

Sirius nearly choked on his laughter. "This is going to be priceless."

"So what exactly do we have to do?" Marlene asked James as he stepped down off the table to collect the hat from Sirius.

"At breakfast tomorrow, you are required to charm the hair of the opponent in question red and gold," he smiled, "in such a way that it will remain the colors of our beloved Gryffindor until the first game of the year."

Marlene nearly cackled with laughter, while Cordelia turned scarlet.

"How are we supposed to do that?" She asked meekly.

"If we told you, that would ruin the challenge," James replied. "Though I will tell you that Hal happens to be dating Emmeline Vance, who is sitting right over there if you'd like a hand."

I pulled a book out of my bag, hoping to tune out the rest of their plotting with a bit of poetry. The initiation pranks were always my favorite of the year, simply by virtue of the fact that I had no obligation whatsoever to get involved with them. I would be able to sit back and laugh at the breakfast table the next day without any worry of detention or expulsion or violent, vengeful repercussion.

By the time I'd reached the halfway mark of my book, it had grown late and the common room had nearly emptied, save Marlene, who was pouring over a book of charms, and Sirius, who seemed to have a copy of Regulus' schedule spread out in front of him on the table.

"He's a fairly early riser, from what I remember," Sirius was saying as Marlene mumbled a charm under her breath, pointing her wand at a feather on the table, which twitched a little and turned a bright shade of fuchsia. She cursed under her breath.

"I give up! The sodding thing will never turn red. I can get pink, I can get blue, I can get twelve different shades of green, for Merlin's sake, but I can't seem to manage _scarlet._"

She stood up, picking the feather up and throwing it violently to the ground.

"_Bollocks_," she mumbled again, shutting the book.

"Be a shame to lose you as a Keeper because you can't manage red, eh?" Sirius joked, and she scowled at him.

"Let's just hope your brother's hair is a bit more cooperative. Do I still make the team if it's pinkish?"

"You'll have to ask James about that, though the idea of Regulus with pink hair is funny enough that I'd almost rather you bollocks it up."

She sighed and picked up her book, heading towards the stairs. "I guess we'll see in the morning, yeah? I've got to get some sleep or it will end up blonde, with my luck."

Sirius plopped down on the couch next to me as she left, sighing. "Can't wait to see what color his head ends up," he laughed lightly. "What're you doing?"

"Reading," I responded, holding up my book for him to see.

"Shouldn't have had to ask, I suppose. You're always reading."

He sighed again, sinking down further into the couch. I tried to turn my attention back to the words on the page, but he kept squirming next to me, moving this way and that, trying to get comfortable, and every time his arm or leg brushed mine my focus jumped from the book to the closeness of his skin.

"Would you stop that?" I asked, scooting away from him to lean against the opposite arm of the couch. I suppose his fidgeting was to be expected; he always got this way the night before something exciting like a huge prank.

"Can't get comfortable. Mind if I lay down?"

"If it will stop you moving, be my guest."

I could not, however, expect him to use my lap as a pillow as he did so.

I turned back to my book yet again, trying to ignore the head resting on my leg, the arm draped across my knees, the hair brushing against my stomach. Poetry, it seemed, was not a sufficient distraction.

"Moony, I'm sleepy," Sirius mumbled after a few minutes, shifting his head and shoulders against my thigh, looking up at me from between strands of his unruly dark hair. "Your books always put me to sleep. Read to me?"

I sighed, and turned the page to the next poem, reading the words from the page quietly.

"_Because I liked you better than suits a man to say," _I started, and he closed his eyes. "_It irked you and I promised to throw the thought away. To put the world between us we parted, stiff and dry; 'Goodbye,' said you, 'forget me.' 'I will, no fear,' said I."_

I paused, watching Sirius' chest rise and fall slowly with his breath. Already asleep? He'd always had a penchant for falling asleep quickly, unlike myself. I began to close the book, wondering if I could maneuver my way out from under him without waking him up; he was a heavy enough sleeper that it shouldn't have been a problem.

As soon as I started to shift, however, he opened one eye and looked at me, scrutinizing, and said, "Keep going," as if he was insulted by the fact that I'd stopped in the middle of a poem.

"_If here, where clover whitens the dead man's knoll, you pass, and no tall flower to meet you starts in the trefoiled grass, halt by the headstone naming the heart no longer stirred, and say the lad that loved you was one that kept his word." _I shut the book.

"'Zat it?"

"That's the end of the poem, yes."

"That's dumb."

"Oh, so I go through all the trouble of reading you to sleep and you call it dumb?"

He looked up at me, opening one eye just enough to see through the strands of his mussed hair. "You're not dumb. The guy who wrote it is. If you love someone you don't just let them push you away and then mope around until you die. If you really love someone that much, you go after them. Like, he literally dies at the end and he's wasted his whole life pining for this horrible prick, what's up with that?"

I set down the book and shifted my weight so I could make eye contact with him. "Well, that's what he went through in real life. He was in love with his best mate, but he couldn't tell him because he was afraid it would ruin their friendship."

He sat up suddenly, knocking my book to the floor. "Bollocks! If the guy was really his friend it wouldn't change anything."

"So if one of your best mates fancied you, you wouldn't bat an eye?"

"I wouldn't be a very good mate if I let that get in the way, would I?"

"I suppose not."

He settled back down, head in my lap yet again, closed his eyes and sighed with a sense of finality that said, okay, I'm going to sleep now, don't bother me. I couldn't move to reach the book without shifting in a way that would surely wake him, so I was stuck sitting in stillness, watching the slight way his chest rose and fell with every breath under the thin fabric of his shirt. He turned, away from the fire, facing towards me so his slow breath warmed my skin, and his shirt pulled up as he shifted, revealing a strip of pale porcelain skin just above the waistband of his trousers, and—

"Remus?"

Lily's quiet voice interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up from the boy sleeping in my lap.

"Yes?"

She looked down at my lap from behind the couch and, smiling, remarked, "Well you look comfortable."

"He, er, fell asleep," I whispered, still trying not to wake him.

"I can see that," She whispered back, stifling a laugh. "Anyway, do you suppose we could go somewhere to talk? So that we won't wake him?"

"I don't think the apocalypse itself could wake Sirius, though I'm positive my moving would. What's up?"

She sat down gingerly on the couch next to us, eyeing Sirius nervously before deciding that he was, in fact, thoroughly asleep. "Well... it's about James." She hesitated, and looked at me as though she expected me to respond.

I struggled to find a response to her statement. "Er, what about him? Did he do something?"

She paused again, looking down at her lap. "No?" She said, as though asking a question. "I just... is something going on? I mean, he seemed sort of off today."

"It was quidditch tryouts. I expect he was just excited. He's been looking forward to this since we lost the last match to Slytherin last year. What do you mean by 'off?'"

Lily shifted slightly in her seat, still looking down. "Well, it's just that he... well I think he's been ignoring me. Well, not quite ignoring me, I... he's just been acting different is all. I'm worried that I might have done something to upset him."

"You could probably kick a puppy at him and you wouldn't upset him, Lily. Besides, wouldn't it be a blessing if he was upset? You're always saying you wish he'd leave you alone."

"Yes, yes, of course," She sputtered quickly, her face quickly flushing red. "I was—"

"Wait a second!" I cut her off, smiling slightly. I thought back to our conversation over the summer, the way she'd cited my blush and my trembling voice, and with a smirk I repeated her words, remarking, "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

A look of pure shock and horror immediately came upon her face as she sprang to her feet. "_WHAT_? ARE YOU SODDING _MENTAL_! WHY—I MEAN, WHAT— NO!"

"Wha—?"

I had nearly forgotten that Sirius was sleeping in my lap until he was sitting up, hand clutched to his chest, startled awake by Lily's sudden outburst.

I couldn't help but laugh; between the horrified, insulted look on Lily's face and the sleepy confusion on Sirius', it was quite a picture.

"Who's mental? Whasgoinon?" Sirius slurred, rubbing his eyes and looking around.

"Don't worry about it," I reassured him. "Go back to sleep. Preferably not on me this time so I can actually move." He turned over, resting his head on the arm of the couch, and after only a few seconds was snoring lightly again, as if he'd never even woken. I turned back to Lily. "I was mostly kidding, but still I can't figure out why else you'd care so much what James thought of you, especially after all this time."

"I _don't_ care, you prat!" She whispered violently, face still bright red and indignant. "Can't someone be concerned for the well-being of someone else without being _accused_ of..." She looked around quickly and lowered her voice to a slight whisper. "I do _not_ have feelings for James Potter."

She crossed her arms over her chest, practically pouting.

I opened my mind to respond, but was cut off by a small voice from behind me.

"Erm, Lil?"

I looked over my shoulder to see Alice, her face red, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but can we talk? Upstairs?"

Lily glanced at me, her lips pressed together nervously. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all, go ahead,"

She followed Alice up the stairs, whispering to her as they went, leaving me alone on the couch to deal with the sleeping boy still draped across my lap.

"What to do with you," I sighed, looking down at him. He snored in response, face peaceful and oblivious to everything around him.

Of their own accord, my fingers found their way to a stray piece of hair that lay gently across his face and brushed it away, grazing slowly over the bridge of his nose. Three years, I thought with a sigh. It had been almost exactly three years since the day the two of us had sat here, in almost these same positions, and I had brushed his hair out of his face and realized with sudden, frightening clarity that the way I felt for Sirius was so very different from the way I felt for James or Peter or Lily. And for three years I had worked so hard to hide it; it shouldn't have been hard anymore, I was so accustomed to it.

I took a deep breath, sliding slowly off the couch, praying my movement wouldn't wake him up. He didn't stir as I got up and picked up my book, and shifted, curling into himself with another light snore as I started to walk away, towards the stairs.

"'_Goodbye,' you said, 'Forget me,'"_ I sighed, as I made my way up to the dormitory, glancing down at my book. _"'I will, no fear,' said I."_


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: **Again, SO sorry for the delay! We just finished finals this past week, and things have just been really hectic and crazy and GAH. But, we're both on holiday right now, so we should catch up very quickly. We might even think about updating more frequently over the break, to make up for this extremely long delay.

Like always, please R/Rv!

This chapter is dedicated to Julia, for scaring me into finishing it :)

- Megan

* * *

><p>I handed Alice another tissue and she blew her nose loudly into it. She sat on the edge of my four-poster bed, her chestnut hair falling into her face as she leaned forward. I reached out a hand and placed it on the top of her head, stroking her hair as her sobs slowly began to subside. We sat in silence for a moment, her sniffles the only sound audible in the room. Mary, Marlene, and Emmeline were all soundly asleep in their beds, informing me that my hastily cast silencing charm worked. We were, essentially, alone.<p>

I breathed in deeply. "When did you find out?"

Alice rubbed her swollen eyes with the back of her hand. "J-just this morning. I haven't been in class all day, D-Dumbledore called me into his office and that's when he…he told me…" Her voice cracked, and I squeezed my hand gently on her shoulder. Her face crumpled again, and she sobbed harder into my shoulder. "It's so fucked up, Lily!" she practically screamed in between sobs. I flinched—Alice never swore, and hearing the words coming from her mouth somehow made it that much more vicious.

"I know, it is…" I offered weakly, lightly tracing circles on her back. "I'm so sorry—"

She sobbed harder, loud moans that felt like they pierced right through me. But then suddenly, with a hitch of breath, she stopped. She jerked her head up and her red, puffy eyes met mine with a kind of intensity I had never seen before.

"I swear to God, Lily," she spoke with a wavering but sure voice, "They may have gotten David, but they won't get me. Or you. I don't care what I have to do, but I will make sure that Voldemort and every single one of his fucking puppets will pay for what they've done. Or I'll die trying."

I sat there, speechless, as Alice stood up and walked over towards her own bed. She took a few steps before pausing and turning back to me. "Thanks, Lily. You're…you're honestly the best friend I could ask for, you know that?"

I smiled weakly. "You too, Alice."

She gave me a half-hearted smile before returning to her bed, and shutting off her lamp, leaving me in complete darkness.

I was incapable of forming thoughts, coherent sentences, or even images in my mind. I was stripped down to the base form of human thought, which was pure emotion, an aching feeling that started in my brain and spread all the way down to the tips of my toes.

It was the middle of the night and I felt drained, but I couldn't sleep. There were too many feelings, too many unchecked emotions swirling through my body. I sighed, got up, and walked out the door to the dormitory, closing it gently behind me, and went down the long flight of stairs into the Common Room. Sirius was sprawled out on the large red couch in the middle of the room, snoring loudly. I tiptoed past him towards the staircase leading to the boys' dormitory and crept up the stairs. When I finally reached the top, I walked towards the end of the hallway, where the seventh years slept, and stopped when I reached the giant scarlet-coloured door with gold trimming. I knocked softly on the door. When no response came, I pushed the door open slightly.

I was immediately greeted with overwhelming darkness. It took my eyes a moment to adjust, but I could see a blanket-covered boy in the bed directly across from the door.

"Remus?" I whispered. The boy shifted, and the blankets moved slightly, revealing a completely bare torso and a mop of unruly brown hair. I froze, the realization that James also shared the dormitory with Remus hitting me like a brick wall. _Oh God_, I thought, panicking, _What if—what if he's sleeping naked?_ The thought both terrified me and, somewhere in the back of my mind, intrigued me. Shaking the thought from my head, I called out slightly louder. "_Remus!_" I hissed.

"Lily?" His voice responded in the darkness, sounding perfectly clear and awake. "Is that you?"

"Yes," I whispered back, "Meet me in the Common Room?"

"Yeah, sure," He responded, a note of worry in his voice.

I closed the door softly, and immediately backed into someone. "Sorry," I said quickly as I turned around, and saw the bemused face of Sirius Black.

"No reason to apologize, Reds," He responded with a smirk in his voice. "Although, I might inquire as to why you're sneakily exiting the boys' dormitory at this hour."

My face immediately turned red. "Sod off, Black," I snapped, exasperated. "It's none of your business where I go."

Still smirking, he held up his hands in mock surrender. "No, no, absolutely not. Have a good night. Or, rather…morning."

His chuckles echoed behind me as I brushed past him, my face still beet-red, and I walked towards the staircase of the Common Room, before walking down and plopping down on the same couch Sirius and Remus were on. About ten minutes later, Remus appeared at the top of the staircase, wearing a thin t-shirt and plaid flannel pants, his hair perfectly combed and in place.

"Blimey, Remus, were you even sleeping?"

He smiled as he walked down the stairs. "No, just thinking about things. Mostly wondering about Alice. She seemed distraught." He walked over to the couch and sat down next to me.

"Yeah, that's what I wanted to talk to you about," I admitted.

"What, did something happen with Frank?" he asked, "Because he seemed upset all today, too."

I shook my head. "No. Her brother went missing."

His eyes widened. "Was it, you know, Voldemort?"

"Well the thing is," I began, "I guess I should tell you...that girl who went missing before, Hills McDonnell? She was—is" I quickly amended, "Her brother's fiancee. And she went missing when..." I looked around the common room, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "...when they were on a mission for the Order of the Phoenix."

"So, yes. It was Voldemort."

"Well, Alice told me when her brother returned to the house he and Hills were stationed at, there was a Dark Mark over it. Y'know, that creepy skull thing that's been in all of those pictures in the _Prophet_. She told me then that it seemed like they were looking for him."

He took a deep breath. "Lily, can you promise me something?"

I eyed him suspiciously. "It depends. What?"

"You can't tell James about any of this."

I looked at him in disbelief. "Are you joking? He'd want to know the most—his father could be in real danger. They should hide, they should—"

"We don't even know for sure if his father is _in _the Order. The second James hears this, he'll run right out of Hogwarts and hunt Voldemort down himself if he thinks it will protect his family. You know he will. I'll talk to Dumbledore to see if there's anything he can do to protect the Potters, but they're one of the most powerful wizarding families in existence. I'm sure they can take care of themselves without James running in."

I stared at him for a moment, and blinked. "But, what if they can't? What if they need him? What if they need us..."

"What if they need a group of misbehaving seventh year students? This isn't the Slytherin quidditch team. They're obviously incredibly powerful. We haven't even passed our N.E.W.T.s yet."

"So, what—we're supposed to sit here and watch our families and friends disappear?" My voice steadily grew louder. "You're right, Remus. They're incredibly powerful. And that's more of a reason for us to help them—in any way we can. I mean, hell, Black, Peter, and James are all animagi. And you're one of the best in our year, Remus. And I'm pretty decent at Charms and Potions, so maybe we could be of use to them in some way."

"Then we do it the right way. Join up. Let the Order train us. If we run right in unannounced, we risk putting the Order in even more danger."

"Then we _have_to talk to James," I persisted. "He'll be first in line."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Well...yes, James is a very passionate person, but can be a good thing." Instantly, Remus raised an eyebrow at me. "I mean—" I sputtered, "He cares about his family and friends! He has real motivation. And, you have to admit, Remus, he's grown up a lot. Maybe he won't react the way you think."

"Just an hour ago, you were negating the idea that he was even a person. Where is this coming from?"

I paused for a moment, briefly meeting Remus' eyes with my own before looking down at my hands in my lap. He was right, of course, as always. "I don't know. It's...it's been a long day."

He sighed, a deep, pained sigh. "It certainly has."

I stood up, my tired legs wobbling slightly. "I'm going to bed. We can talk more in the morning."

He nodded silently, not moving from the couch as I stood and made my way towards the staircase. I didn't look back at him but I knew he was probably sitting there, doing the same thing as I was—thinking about what to do next.

The next morning, Dumbledore accompanied Alice back to her house. "I need to be with my family," she had responded to my protests of Hogwarts being the safest place to stay. "It's hard to be away from them knowing that at any moment, one of them could be…" She trailed off, biting down hard on her bottom lip.

"Hey, don't think that way," I said lightly, trying to be comforting. I pulled her into a hug and she squeezed me tightly with her arms, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

"You're really the best, Lily," She said quickly, her eyes beginning to water slightly. "Sorry if I've been—"

"No," I said firmly, placing my hands on her shoulders. "Don't even say that. That's what I'm here for."

She grinned—the first genuine smile I had seen from her in days. With a wave goodbye and another quick hug, she turned down the hall towards Dumbledore's office. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I watched her as she disappeared down the corridor.

I fancied a stroll alone. It was a beautiful Sunday morning despite all that was going on, and I needed some time to really think. I scurried down the end of the corridor and walked through to the outside of the castle near the Black Lake. It was still rather early in the day—before 10 o'clock, so I knew that the rest of my dormitory, and likely all of the castle, was still sleeping. Sweet-smelling dew still lingered on the tips of the bright green blades of grass. I slipped my feet out of my shoes, picked them up with one hand, and carried them down towards the shore of the lake. Gingerly, I dipped a toe into the small ripple of water lapping up against the land. It was unusually warm for September, so much so that I pulled away my foot in shock for a moment before resting it back in the water. Smiling, I closed my eyes, and felt the gentle, warm breeze tickle the hairs on my skin, soaking up the very last remnants of summer.

"Lily?"

I snapped my eyes open at the familiar, yet jarring, voice. I whipped my head around to the source of the sound, and saw him there. A pale, thin boy just a few inches taller than me, with neatly combed black hair and a long nose.

"Snape," I replied with a curt nod, trying to sound nonplussed. I turned back towards the horizon of the lake.

"What are you doing out here?"

Holding back the urge to tell him to sod off, I slowly turned my head back. "Trying to enjoy a peaceful Sunday morning…alone." I was being rude, but I didn't care. Just as I was beginning to relax, just as I was starting to forget about all of the messed up things that were happening all around me, _he_ just had to show up and shove it all back in my face.

"Of course," He said quickly. I nodded, and once again turned away, expecting him to leave. But, out of the corner of my eye, I saw that he remained where he was. Staring at me. I tried to ignore him for a few moments, but he just stood there, watching me as I pretended not to notice him.

"Can I help you?" I snapped, dropping all sense of formality. He stood there still, simply looking at me while the breeze slightly picked up around my ankles. He furrowed his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth drooping slightly.

"Lily…" He trailed off, as though unsure of what he wanted to say.

"What do you want from me?" I asked with as even of a tone as I could muster. "We aren't friends. We haven't been friends for months and months now. Over two years. Nothing has changed, Severus."

"Things are changing everywhere," He whispered vehemently, something unrecognizable in his eyes. "And I'm sorry, but I want to be on the right side of things, and you should, too—"

"_Excuse_ me?" The color drained from his face as I spoke to him, venom dripping from every syllable. Months and months of pent-up anger and frustration cracked inside me as I felt a blockade in me come crumbling to the ground. "_Unlike_ you and your precious Death Eater friends," I practically spat the words at him, watching his expression turn fearful. "I don't havethat choice, _Severus_. Because I'm a _Mudblood_—don't flinch, you're the one who said it, after all—I'm a Mudblood, and even if I wasn't, the fact that you think I'd want to join some sick, twisted, _evil_ group of…of…of _murderers_—is probably the most insulting thing you could ever suggest to me. So, I'd suggest you leave me alone, because if that's what you want to become, I have no desire to speak with you or even see you ever again." By the time I finished speaking, I couldn't tell if I was on the verge of tears or eruption but somehow I managed to storm back off towards the castle without looking behind me to see Snape's reaction.

The _nerve_ of it all. I bristled down the hallway towards the opposite end of the castle, determined to salvage my Sunday morning. I wandered aimlessly around the mostly empty castle before resigning with a sigh to return to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"_Cauda draconis_," I offered to the half-sleeping portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Yes, indeed," She mumbled, rolling over to her side as the portrait swung open. I stormed into the Common Room as the door swung shut behind me. Breathing heavily, I huffed through room and up the staircase to the girls' dormitory, barely even noticing that Remus was still sitting in the same spot on the couch as he was the night before, sleeping soundly on the plush armrest.


	22. Chapter 22

"Bloody owl," Sirius cursed, snarling at the creature that had just dropped a package into his cereal, causing it to splash out of the bowl and down his front of his robes. It was Friday, nearly a month into school now, and the four of us were at our usual spots at the Gryffindor table, weary from a night of sneaking through the hallways, updating the map with any changes the castle had made to itself in our absence. "I'll kill that bloody bird," he growled under his breath, delicately pulling the package from out of the bowl and wiping his hands on Peter's shoulder.

"Hey, watch it!" Peter snapped, sliding away down the bench. "I just washed these."

"Doesn't smell like it," Sirius responded, deftly opening the package.

The Daily Prophet dropped into my own lap, mercifully not upsetting any dishes or food, and I quickly unfolded it and held it in front of my face to block out the noise of any further argument on the state of Peter's hygiene.

The news looked particularly dull, as it always tended to on the days I desperately wanted to read it to escape conversation. The front page was a statement from the Minister on the recent killings in Bristol, in which he claimed that "all was well; things were being handled; the wizarding community was not to worry about a thing," as he always did when the ministry was up against an opponent they did not expect to defeat. It was the same thing he had been saying all year, since the killings started. I flipped the page.

Obituaries by the dozen followed, along with several articles with titles like "A Witch's Guide to Self-Defense Spells" and "How to Keep Your Home Safe." On the third page, there was an extensive article featuring a poncy-looking man trying to advertise his newest book, which detailed his adventures defeating a vampire in Romania, or something equally absurd.

I was about to give up and set the paper down when something on the back of the paper caught my eye.

It was an engagement announcement — declaring the intention of one Lucius Malfoy to wed potential Black Family heir Narcissa Black. I remembered Lucius vaguely, a snobby Slytherin prefect when I'd first come to Hogwarts. And, while acutely aware of Sirius' disdain for anyone else with the last name of Black, I remembered Narcissa as being significantly more sane than her sister Bellatrix, though not as kind as Andromeda. Hadn't Narcissa had political aspirations? I thought I remembered Sirius mentioning something about her wanting to be the next Minister of Magic. Marrying into another family that undoubtedly had connections to Voldemort didn't exactly seem like a smart political move on her part.

"Sirius," I interjected, though he didn't seem to hear me over whatever Peter was arguing to him.

"Sirius!" I repeated, a bit louder this time.

"Oh, yes, yes, bloody _fine, _Moony. I know it's time to go to Arithmancy, just let me have a bit of fun, will you?"

I opened my mouth to correct him, but realized that yes, it was in fact time to go to Arithmancy. Actually, well past time to go. If we didn't rush, we'd be late for sure.

I sighed, tearing the article out of the paper and shoving it into my pocket as Sirius rushed to shove a few pieces of toast into his bag — "in case I get hungry in class," he mumbled through a mouthful of bacon.

We were on time to class, but only just, and Professor Vector eyed the two of us daringly as we slipped into the silent classroom just as she was opening her mouth to begin her lecture.

For this reason, I resisted from leaning over towards his desk and bringing up the topic of his cousin's engagement under my breath while her back was turned. Professor Vector, in truth, frightened me a bit when she was angry, and I had no intention of bringing that rage upon myself today.

Sirius, however, had other intentions.

"First quidditch match of the year tomorrow," he whispered as she wrote out a long equation on the blackboard.

I sighed in response, hoping he'd recognize that I didn't plan on talking.

"You should see us play, mate. This team? Bloody _beautiful._ We're like a work of art. You've got to watch us practice sometime, really."

I nodded in a futile attempt to appease him.

"Really, though. Marlene is bloody brilliant! And Cordelia, the fourth year, extremely impressive. I wouldn't be surprised if she won the game for us singlehandedly. There's no way Slytherin stands a chance."

"Mister Black," Vector intoned from the front of the room. "Do you and Mister Lupin have something you'd like to share with the class?"

I bit my lip, but he smiled charmingly and replied, "Only that Slytherin is going _down_ tomorrow!"

Rory McDonnell, one of Slytherin's chasers who happened to be seated in the front row, turned bright red, turning towards the two of us. I could have sworn he was going to hex his mouth shut, but Professor Vector placed her hand on his shoulder and McDonnell turned back to the front of the room, fists and jaw clenched, face hidden behind his long black hair.

"Would you miss the game if you had a detention, Mister Black?"

"Uh, yeah..."

"Then I suggest you shut your mouth and focus on your notes."

He looked down, suddenly solemn, and opened his textbook. But the second she had turned her back again, he leaned over and whispered, "We're still going to kick their arses."

Halfway through the game the next afternoon, however, it was looking as if Sirius had been terribly wrong about the outcome of the match. I found myself wanting to leave only a few minutes in out of sheer embarrassment for my friends on the team. They hardly worked together at all, let alone as a beautiful work of art.

But then something occurred that Sirius and James would, from that day forth, forever refer to as simply The Comeback.

The Comeback had been, at the very least, one of the most spectacularly impressive things I had ever seen. The crowd, myself included, had been convinced that Dolohov's perfectly aimed bludger at Cordelia's head had essentially ended the game two minutes in – with an unconscious seeker and a hardly-trained keeper, winning had seemed, for Gryffindor, less than impossible. And when, last minute, James had dropped the quaffle into a smirking McDonnell's open and waiting green clad arms to dive towards the other side of the field, most of us figured he'd been confunded.

It took Madame Hooch a good ten minutes of consulting her rule books to determine what would happened if a member other than the seeker caught the snitch, but she ultimately ruled in favor of James, saying that Gryffindor had, in fact, won 250 to 240.

Sirius and Benjy roared into the common room not long after, bearing armfuls of butterbeer bottles and dolling out galleons to anyone willing to go find more. But it was only after a few minutes of partying that Sirius sidled up next to me against the wall by our staircase, a much larger and more conspicuous bottle of firewhiskey in his hand.

He leaned close to me year and, over the din of the crowd, bellowed, "Used my masculine charm to convince Rosmerta to give me this. Want a sip?"

I humored him with a large gulp and the accompanying grimace of distaste. "Don't let the Head Boy see you with that!" I jested.

"I doubt he can see anything at all through the wall of girls on every side of him." He was emptying the bottle rapidly down his throat. "Think my bludger to Yaxley's nuts was enough to convince that pretty little sixth year over there to snog me?"

"Give her a sip of that stuff and Yaxley probably could have kept his manhood intact," I shouted back. Just one sip and I was already starting to feel the effects of the drink. That, or the entire Gryffindor common room was literally pulsing with palpable energy and tension, like the heart of some giant adrenaline-fueled beast.

Sirius downed the rest of the bottle and produced an identical one from within the folds of his quidditch robes.

"Anyway," he sad, the word slurring slightly. "Before the match, you said you had something important to tell me?"

I remembered the article now, tucked in the pocket of my robes upstairs. "It's something I saw in the Daily Prophet. I thought you might find it interesting. I have it upstairs."

"Okay." He took my arm and pulled me into the staircase, taking the stairs three at a time, bounding towards our room.

He set the bottle down on the bedstand by my bed while I dug through the pockets of my discarded robe for the clipping.

"Moony?" He said.

I turned back to him and he looked at me with his mouth slightly open. "What?"

His lips crashed against mine, a mess of warmth and the strong taste of firewhiskey moving ceaselessly against me. My mind blanking, I let out a low, involuntary moan as he pulled my body against his and slid his tongue into my mouth. His fingers found their way into my hair and down to the waistband of my trousers, while mine hung limply, uselessly by my sides.

He pulled away slightly, momentarily, one hand still lingering against the small of my back, the other guiding my hands to his face and his waist. And then his lips were on my neck, sucking at the tender skin just below my jaw, kissing down my collar bone, and my hands moved naturally, of their own accord, grasping his hair and his hips and I couldn't stop my heavy, ragged breathing. Soon his hand was sliding under my shirt, moving up my chest, and he was mumbling into my skin, "take it off," in a throaty, slurred whisper.

I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it as he pushed me against the wall behind us, his hand sliding down the front of my trousers. I could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of my boxers as my hips pressed into his palm.

He smiled against my mouth.

"God..."

His hands struggled with the buckle of my belt, pulling at it, while his lips moved skillfully down my bare chest, licking and sucking until, at last, he sank to his knees and the buckle came apart.

He froze for a moment, his hot breath panting against my skin, she he undid the remaining buttons and began to tug at my boxers with his teeth,his lips brushing the soft skin of my pelvis.

There was a thump from the staircase and my stomach clenched, but Sirius didn't seem to hear it.

"Someone's here."

He mumbled something that sounded a lot like, _"don't care who knows," _but I pulled him roughly to his feet, handed him his bottle and mumbled, "go find that pretty sixth year of yours."

He left quickly as I adjusted my trousers and when he was gone I sat down on my bed, wondering if I could vomit up the feeling of dread currently knotting my stomach.

After a moment, the noise in the staircase moved into the room, and though it was too dark to see, I could hear James' voice slurring, "Moony? Zat you?"

"Yeah," I said, rubbing my temples with my fingertips.

"Y'okay? You sound sad."

"I'm fine. Congratulations on the game, today. You were brilliant."

"Y'don't sound okay. Y'sound... sad."

"Just confused," I admitted. "Nothing to worry about, Prongs. You should go back to the party."

"I always worry about you. You're my mate. Love you."

He covered the length of the room in three quick strides - a testament to how small these rooms were for housing five fully grown men, especially compared to how grand it had seemed as a first year - and wrapped his arms around my torso. "You're gonna be okay, Moony. I promise. We're gonna make sure you're always okay."

I whispered my thanks, and somehow he heard me despite the fact that my voice caught in my throat and the word was virtually inaudible.

"Marauders stick together. Through everything..." His voice trailed off and he slumped against my chest, his words dissolving into light snores.

"Good night, James."

I stood up carefully, pulled my covers over his shoulders — I didn't have the heart to wake him up, and after all he deserved some rest after the brutal game that afternoon — and descended back to the common room. In the corner, I spotted Sirius, his arm around a girl I barely recognized. As quickly as I could make it across the room, I exited Gryffindor tower.

I spent that night in the library, catching up on work and reading that I'd been neglecting for the past few days. By the time my watch alerted me that it was two, I'd finished an essay on inferi for Defense Against the Dark Arts and read several chapters ahead in my Ancient Runes textbook; when my watch chimed two-thirty, however, I was interupted.

"Awfully late to be in the library, especially for a Saturday night, isn't it?" A voice questioned from behind me.

"You're one to talk, being here," I responded before looking up reluctantly from my book to see who it was.

Who it was, I realized after a moment of discombobulation, was Lucas Thompson — a Ravenclaw in several of my classes and captain of the quidditch team. We'd spoken before, and were on friendly terms, but I'd barely had the opportunity to really become acquainted with him.

"Well, I'm on prefect duties. What's your excuse? I'd hope you'd have a good enough one for me not to kick you out; you look so productive after hours."

"The Gryffindor common room is so chaotic that I couldn't hear myself think if I were screaming my thoughts with a Sonorus charm."

He smiled, a charming, jovial smile that spread across his entire face. "I suppose that's sufficient. I won't let anyone know you're here."

I expected him to leave after that, to continue on his rounds, but instead he pulled out the chair across from me and asked, "mind if I sit down for a few minutes?"

I shook my head and slid a quill into my book to mark my place.

"Is that for Arithmancy?"

"Yeah."

"Is it tough? I haven't even looked at this weekend's homework yet."

"It's not bad."

He glanced at my notes skeptically. "Looks like a fair bit of work. Though if anyone can find this subject effortless, I'm not surprised it's you, even if you never pay attention in class."

"I do pay attention in class!"

"You weren't yesterday."

"That was an extraneous situation. All Sirius' fault." My heart sunk a little as his name escaped my lips — I had almost forgotten about the events of earlier that night, had in fact tried desperately to forget, but now the horrible feeling in my stomach was returning. Luckily, Lucas kept speaking, distracting me from the memory.

"That _was_ an impressive win for Gryffindor today. Do congratulate James for me, will you? I was starting to hope that we'd get lucky this year and Gryffindor wouldn't have their act together, but that seems to have been in vain."

"Really?" I challenged. "Seemed more like dumb luck and less like skill to me. But what do I know. I've never even flown a broom before."

"You haven't?"

"I'm terrified of them."

"Oh come off it, that can't be true."

"Why do you think James hasn't put me on the team yet? I won't even touch broomsticks."

He laughed, leaning slightly closer across the table. "I'll bet you could fly if you tried."

"Well, you'll never find out, will you?" I replied stubbornly. "I have vowed never to let me feet off the ground if I can help it for the rest of my days."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you," he said. Then he stood. "I should probably get back to my rounds. Let you get back to your work. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you're here."

James found me passed out in the library the next morning, and apologised profusely for kicking me out of my bed the entire walk to breakfast. "I've got good news, though," he explained with an unusual level of frenetic energy, even for James. "We've figured it out — well, Peter has, I suppose, credit where credit is due."

"Figured what out?"

"The prank. The one that will ensure we go down in Hogwarts history forever."

Peter detailed the prank to me over breakfast, his eyes lit up with excitement, obviously extremely proud of his efforts. And he deserved to be. The idea was incredible: equal parts sure to get us expelled and sure to keep me researching in the library every spare moment I had between now and graduation, but incredible nonetheless. There was no way the four of us could pass this opportunity up.

We whispered about it over breakfast for at least an hour, with James listing out all of the things he'd need me to look up while he made other arrangements, and then we shifted to the library so I could start my work and, simultaneously, make sure that James and Peter at least tried to get started on their homework for the weekend. Sirius, however, was nowhere to be found.

"He wasn't in his bed when I got up this morning," Peter told me when I asked, biting the end of his quill.

James added, "I assumed he'd surface from the girls' room at some point during breakfast, but I haven't seen him."

I turned back to the large spellbook I had open in front of me and jotted down a few more notes, determined to smooth over the remaining flaws in this plan and to set Sirius out of my mind completely for the time being. If I could do that, I told myself firmly, this year would turn out okay.

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks to everyone for reading! Our apologies again for the sporadic updating the past month or so - hopefully now that we're on break we'll be able to get ahead so that we can update more regularly when the new semester begins. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Remember to review!

-Christine


	23. Chapter 23

At the start of the second week of October, Alice still hadn't returned to Hogwarts. I'd lost track of how many days she'd been gone—definitely more than a week, that was for sure, maybe even longer than two. Long enough to send a letter, although she never did. Not that I minded—I knew that with her family in the state it was, sending a letter to me would certainly be low on her list of priorities, as it should be. Still, I couldn't help but worrying about her. She was one of my best mates, and every time I walked into our dormitory room, her absence hit me like cold water being poured down my spine.

Mary, Marlene, and Emmeline were left out of the loop, for the most part. It was extremely difficult to keep it from them—after all, I had shared a dormitory with these girls for seven years, and although not all of us hit it off right away (particularly Mary and Marlene, who still had the occasional spat) it was inevitable that we would all grow close and share secrets with each other. I knew about Mary's fear of sloths, how Marlene loved to slow dance by herself, holding her arms out in the air, to tender Frank Sinatra music, and that Emmeline kept her most prized possession, a journal, tucked inside the right lower drawer of her dresser beneath a pile of socks. And, of course, I knew that beneath Alice's sweet exterior was a fierce and courageous woman, one who would go to any lengths to protect those she loved. I first found this out in second year, when she hexed Tony Dolohov for pulling my hair in Charms class and had to suffer through two weeks of detention as a result.

We all had grown quite close over the years. But for some reason, Alice chose not to share the details of her brother's disappearance with Mary, Emmeline, or even Marlene. In fact, she hadn't even said goodbye to them before leaving. They all assumed that I knew nothing about her absence either and, rather than correct them, I allowed them to continue thinking that I was just as in the dark about it as the rest of them.

"Someone must have _some _idea of where she's went!"

I had just walked into the girls dormitory after an extremely long and exhausting day. Professor Slughorn had approached me earlier that week and asked if his "brightest Potions pupil" would please, _please_ consider tutoring an "enthusiastic but horribly misguided" 5th year Gryffindor named Benjy Fenwick, who had managed to blow up two pewter cauldrons and catch an unsuspecting Hufflepuff's braid aflame. Unable to deny his look of desperation, I had reluctantly agreed.

So, when I walked into the dormitory, I had just spent two and a half painful hours trying to get Benjy to add the proper amount of Flobberworm Mucus to his Sleeping Draught potion so that he wouldn't fail his OWLs come spring. Yet, Benjy's ineptitude for Potions was precisely what brought me into my dormitory about twenty minutes into an intense conversation that was already in progress.

"I don't know, Mary," Marlene sighed, pushing a stray curl behind her ear. "None of the teachers have said anything at all—"

"But that doesn't mean that they don't know anything," Emmeline piped up from the other side of the room. Of all of us, Emmeline was probably the person who I was least close to. Not that we didn't get along or anything—she dated Remus for awhile, back in 5th year and for part of 6th, and we all got along quite well then. But, after they broke up, she began dating Hal Summers, Ravenclaw's Keeper, and began spending much more time with him and his friends.

"That's true," Marlene said impatiently, "But even Frank seems like he doesn't know anything about it. And, those two are—"

"Practically engaged, yeah," Mary snorted loudly.

I raised my eyebrows. "Are they even dating?" I asked, hoping to sneakily change the conversation topic. I knew for a fact that Frank did, indeed, know that Alice was at home with her family and why she was gone, but like me, he had to feign ignorance. I had a suspicion that the teachers knew as well (particularly McGonagall, from the way her eyes flickered with sadness and concern whenever anyone mentioned Alice's name), although there was the possibility that Alice's family and Dumbledore had decided to keep her brother's disappearance a secret even from most of the faculty, in order to increase the chances of him returning home.

So, like Frank, I had to pretend to be just as clueless as the rest of them, but with a slightly guilty conscience. I was never one for telling lies, particularly to people who I considered close friends. I had confided in Remus, but only because I knew that he understood and respected the importance of keeping a secret.

So, I asked the question, hoping that perhaps I could avoid lying outright.

It worked.

"Oh, please, Lily! Where have _you_ been?" Mary chortled with raised eyebrows.

"They're not official, no," Marlene cut her off, ignoring the incredulous look on Mary's face. "But have you seen them together?"

I smiled and forced a short laugh.

"Yeah, I guess my head's just sort of been somewhere else lately," I laughed nervously. I felt a pang in my chest, thinking about the headlines I had read earlier that morning in the _Prophet_.

Marlene narrowed her eyes slightly. "Lily? Are you okay?"

I blinked. "Oh yeah, yeah, I'm great! Just a bit—er—tired. It's been a really long day."

"I bet," Mary interrupted with a laugh in her voice. "Nearly three hours of Benjy Fenwick!"

"Oh, is _that_ who you're tutoring in Potions?" Emmeline yelled from her bed, sitting up with a start.

"Yeah," I laughed weakly, acutely aware of Marlene's eyes still attentively glued to me. "Poor kid kept mistaking wolfsbane for lavender."

Emmeline and Mary both laughed, but Marlene kept her gaze on me.

"Bloke walks around this place like he's some sort of…James Potter the second," Mary snorted.

I paused. "What do you mean?"

Mary and Emmeline exchanged a look. Emmeline coughed before Mary piped up. "I mean, he's kind of a pompous little berk."

And for no reason at all, I found myself extremely annoyed. "Hey, he means well," I retorted. It took me a moment to realize that I didn't know if I was defending Benjy Fenwick or James.

"No, but that's the problem," Marlene finally spoke up, giving me instant relief. "The problem is that he's trying to be Potter. And there's only one James Potter."

I laughed loudly and immediately, and all three pairs of eyes instantly turned to me.

"Sorry, but—don't let James hear you saying that. It's already going to be hard enough to beat Ravenclaw next Friday without James' big head weighing down his broomstick."

The three of them laughed and, smiling slightly, I made my way over to my four poster bed, thankful for a moment by myself to think.

I laid down on my soft quilt, one that my Mum had knit for me when I was just a kid. It still smelled like home. All of a sudden, I felt very homesick.

As I lay there, my thoughts drifted back to the headlines of the _Prophet_ from that morning. Another report of missing Muggles, a wizard named Mathias Doge found dead in his home in Bristol with the Dark Mark lingering ominously over his chimney top. I realized then that Alice's brother had never been reported as missing. I suspected out of fear for his involvement in the Order of the Phoenix. Yes, Alice's family was most certainly trying to keep this under wraps.

"Lily?"

I blinked rapidly and started slightly at the voice. Raising my eyes slowly, I saw Marlene's face poking through the curtains of my bed.

I considered for a moment pretending to be asleep or making up an excuse to ignore her. But, seeing her concerned face, her eyes lined with questions, I instantly felt a pang of guilt. She was Alice's friend, after all, just as I was. Of course she was concerned—of course they all were. It had been at least two weeks since she left, maybe more, and honestly, she had been acting quite strange since the start of the year.

So, with a heavy conscience, I smiled weakly at Marlene. "Yeah?"

She pushed back the curtain and sat on the edge of my bed, pulling the curtain closed shut behind her.

"Lily, where is Alice?" She spoke quickly, but deliberately. "I know you know," She whispered, waving off my protests. "It's been weeks, Lily. None of _us_—" she nodded backwards, gesturing to Mary and Emmeline "—have heard anything."

I looked at her for a long moment. I couldn't lie to Marlene. I had known her for too long, and she paid closer attention to things than Emmeline or Mary. She was too shrewd—lying to her would only make her distrust me.

"Look, Mars, I really can't talk about it, but yes, I do know where Alice is," I said as truthfully as I could. "But she's okay. I mean, she's safe and all."

Marlene looked slightly relieved, but still a bit unconvinced. I took a deep breath and sighed slowly.

"Dumbledore's keeping an eye on her," I explained in a quick, hushed voice. "I wish I could tell you more, but I can't. I'm sorry."

She nodded slowly, still with a hard, unaccepting gaze in her eyes. "Do you know when she'll be back?"

I shook my head sadly. "No, unfortunately. I don't have a clue."

She swallowed, and nodded. "Thanks for talking with me, Lily. Just…if there's anything more that you find out that you can tell us—"

"I will," I cut her off with as much reassurance in my voice as I could muster. Her mouth curled into a small smile before she said goodnight and stood up from my bed, drawing the curtains behind her.

Outside of the curtain, someone blew a candle out, and darkness washed over me. I laid back onto my pillow, and closed my eyes, hoping that sleep would come quickly.

It didn't. My night was restless, and when I looked in the mirror the next morning, I saw that dark circles lined the outer rims of my eyes—a combination of lack of sleep and stress, I supposed. But that was what seventh year was supposed to be, wasn't it? After all—I was Head Girl, I was taking one of the hardest curriculums at Hogwarts (NEWT-level Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and an independent study in Astronomy), and on top of all of that, my best friend was absent indefinitely and James Potter was beginning to get under my skin even more than usual.

It started with the Prefects meeting the Friday before. As Head Boy, James and I were required to run the meetings smoothly and efficiently, but it always wound up going something like this:

ME: Okay everyone, let's look at the rounds schedule for this week. Do these times work for everyone?

RANDOM FIFTH YEAR: Yeah, er, I don't think this week is going to work for me. See, I have a quidditch match and then tutoring and—

ME: Sorry, mate, you have to do it at some point this week.

RANDOM FIFTH YEAR: But, Lily…

ME: I'm sorry, but that's the rules.

JAMES: Come on, Lil, we can substitute someone in for him this week.

ME: James, that's really not—

JAMES: Oy, Snivel—er—Snape. You've got double rounds this week.

ME: _James_, you can't—

JAMES: Oh come on, Lily, it'll be fine.

Except it never was fine, because James _always_ chose Snape or another Slytherin to do double rounds. Because even though they wound up not having to do rounds another week, the Slytherins were notorious for holding grudges. And because of that, the Friday Prefects' meeting comprised of Ava Snell, a fifth year Slytherin, trying to convince us that the Slytherin prefects would be unable to complete rounds that week because the Slytherins had to prepare for their upcoming match against Hufflepuff.

"Er," I began dubiously, looking at the brunette who stared at me with narrowed eyes, "That really won't be possible. First of all, you're not all on the Quidditch team, secondly, you can't be excused from Prefects duty to prepare for a match, and thirdly, pretty much _everyone_ has a match going on at some point, and to excuse you for that wouldn't be fair."

"Oh, but to excuse Colin Finch from rounds so he can go on a date _is_ fair?" She snapped, jerking her head towards a sheepish-looking Hufflepuff sitting across the room.

I glared at James pointedly. "Well, no, but he's just one person…not an entire house."

"Well _I _think," She began haughtily, "That you're favoring everyone over the Slytherins."

I opened my mouth to speak, but James cut me off.

"Well, _luckily_," He mimicked her tone mockingly, "We don't give a rat's_ arse_ what you _think_, Snell, so you can shut up and let Lily finish handing out this week's rounds."

Her face turned red and she pursed her lips in a Petunia-ish manner, and although she crossed her arms and glared at James and me for the rest of the meeting, we were no longer interrupted. I continued the meeting, barely looking at James.

After the meeting, I left the room quickly and rushed down the corridor toward the Gryffindor common room. I was thankful to finally be alone and able to relax, until I saw a familiar tall, robe-clad body running toward me from my peripheral vision.

"Pretty good meeting today, eh, Evans?"

I stopped in my tracks, and turned to him incredulously. "Are you _joking_?"

The smirk on his face instantly faded. "What do you mean? I finally got that Slytherin fifth year off your case. She's been trying to undermine you for weeks now—"

"Oh, _she's_ been trying to undermine me?" I practically shouted at him, my arms immediately crossing over my chest. "_You're_ the one who ignores anything I say, trying to seem all _cool_ and laid-back in front of the Prefects, _you're_ the one who threatens my authority every single sodding meeting! And, you know what, James? Ava was _right_. You favor everyone over the Slytherins and you get people out of their rounds for no reason—"

"WELL I'M SORRY." Something seemed to have snapped in him, and his voice was echoing down the corridor. "I'M SORRY THAT I'M SHIT AT THIS AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE SODDING HEAD BOY."

"James—"

"No," He stopped me, his face looking strained. "You're right. I don't know why Dumbledore picked me. I'm—I'm not good at being in charge, Lily. I wish I was, but I'm not."

"That's bullshit, James, and you know it." James raised his eyebrows at my swearing, but I continued. "You're captain of the _Quidditch_ team, James—"

He rolled his eyes. "That's not the same. I'm _good_ at Quidditch. Lily, do you know how many detentions Sirius and I got last year?" I shook my head. "Twenty-four. And that's only counting the ones we got together. How the _hell_ am I supposed to stand up there like a prat and pretend like I actually _deserve_ this?"

"It doesn't matter if you _deserve_ it!" I shouted, throwing my hands up in the air. "Merlin, James, you were picked to do this job, and you have to sodding _do it_. You can't just sit back and let me do everything and be in charge, and then just jump in to try to be the good guy. That's not how responsibility works, James."

"I know." He ruffled his hair nervously and looked down. "I just…" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I just don't want them to hate me. I used to think that the prefects and the Head Boy and all that were such _pricks_—no offense." I shrugged. "But I don't want to be like that. I want to just…be who I've always been."

I was stunned. James Potter, the suave, devil-may-care marauder was worried that people weren't going to _like_ him? I looked at him for a long moment, taking in his helpless face and the slight slump of his shoulders and the way that the tips of his shoes pointed towards each other.

"Look," I started, exhaling slowly. "You're going to piss some people off, James, just like you piss some people off during Quidditch practice. But, for whatever reason, people respect you—"

"Hey!"

I grinned and continued. "—people respect you, and they aren't going to respect you less for doing your job. It's a lot of pressure, but Dumbledore chose _you._ And you owe it to him to at least try not to muck it up. You owe it to him, you owe it to your house, and you owe it to yourself."

He stared at me for a moment, an expression on his face that I couldn't quite read.

"Blimey, Lily."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What?"

"You are actually perfect."

I laughed loudly and hysterically, without stopping for a breath for a full five minutes, while James stared at me, half confused and half worried. "Oh, James…" I finally managed to breathe out. "You really don't know how wrong you are."

"No, no," He interrupted. "Not that way. Not the way people always say. You know, not the 'Lily's Head Girl, Lily's so smart, Lily's perfect' kind of way," He spoke quickly, without stopping for a breath. "Perfect in the…in the way that you just hold up this image of yourself and then out of the blue, let me look inside your head for just a second and I can see that you're just as human as the rest of us, but you try so hard to be who you think you should be. You're perfect in the way that you can take your imperfections, your glaring, huge imperfections—"

"Hey!" I mimicked him from before.

"You just take your biggest weaknesses and make them your strengths. You know that you aren't perfect and that makes you perfect…I don't know how to explain it. I just…wow."

There was silence for a moment. Long, uncomfortable silence. I didn't know what to say or even what I was thinking, but I could feel my face turning red and my body heating up and all I could say was:

"Um…"

James laughed, and placed his hand on my shoulder. "I'll see you later, Lily. Gotta go do my rounds."

"Er…yeah," I said thickly. "See you…"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hey guys, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! We've decided that instead of having a designated day on which to update, we're just going to start posting our chapters when we've finished them. Usually, that will be anywhere from 2-4 weeks after the previous chapter is posted. Thank you all so much for reading-your reviews have been absolutely fantastic, and we've appreciated all of your messages on our Tumblrs! You guys are fantastic, and give us so much incentive to keep writing!

So, leave us a review and let us know what you think! :)

- Megan


	24. Chapter 24

"Who can tell me what Amortentia is?" Professor Slughorn announced grandly, holding up a small vial as he entered the room.

I wasn't watching him, though, as he called on a Hufflepuff girl in the back row who meekly informed the class that it was the strongest love potion in the world. Instead, I was staring at the scuffed toes of my shoes under the table, my fingernails digging small half moons into my already scarred hands.

Not even two full months into school and just the thought of going to Potions class was regularly making me sick to my stomach. Between Slughorn and Snape, it had rapidly gone from my least favorite class to the innermost circle of my own personal hell. Snape rarely let me touch a cauldron, and complained that I had done no work when Slughorn admired the finished product; he upended pots of acidic mixtures onto my shoes; and the day after the first full moon of the year, he refused to let me know what we had done in the class that I had missed. Now, sitting next to him with the stench of his unwashed hair infiltrating my nostrils, I finally fully understood why James had hated him so much and for so long.

"Just sit there and don't get in my way," he mumbled, scribbling something in the margins of his textbook. As always, I looked over the instructions in my book, watching what he did, and silently cursing the fact that I hadn't followed Sirius' lead and dropped the class, as I knew there was no possible way I would pass my N.E.W.T anyway. The first few weeks I had tried to help out despite his instructions — cutting things or measuring things while he tended to the cauldron — but it always caused something to go wrong, whether it was a cauldron melting or the potion ending up the wrong color. At first I'd thought I truly was hopeless at Potions, but after a while I'd realized that when I helped, he was specifically sabotaging the process at another step and then blaming my participation for the failure. Slughorn bought every word of it, and no matter how hard I tried, I knew there was no convincing him that Snape was wrong. So I had given up.

A few more days of this, and I would probably resign myself to a failing grade and start doing work for other classes while Snape slaved away over our assignment.

"Why don't you ask to switch partners?" Lily had asked me a few weeks earlier.

"He'd never let me switch," I explained. "I think he likes seeing Snape drive me mad."

"Well, it isn't fair to you. You have just as much right as everyone else in the class to learn the material you'll need to pass your N.E.. The unjust bigotry of a fellow student shouldn't be impeding your ability to learn. You should alert Professor Dumbledore."

"Lil, Dumbledore's already doing me a favor much larger than I can ask. I shouldn't even be here."

"Then _I'll_ talk to him," She sighed with exasperation. "I'm not going to sit idly by and let _you_ suffer just because of someone else's prejudices. And he shouldn't be able to get away with it just because he's clever at Potions and tries to make himself the victim all the time!" I suspected she was no longer just talking about my situation, and with a slightly pink tinge to her face she had quickly excused herself and ran off.

She had not, however, spoken with the headmaster — at least, not to my knowledge — and my situation remained, devastatingly though not unsurprisingly, unchanged.

The worst part was, I couldn't even exchange exasperated sighs with Lily. She and James were huddled over their cauldron, frantically trying to salvage a grayish sludge that I knew from the textbook was far from the pearl-colored sheen they were supposed to have produced.

"Why isn't it boiling!" she was groaning, flipping through the pages of her book.

"Maybe it's because the fire's gone out," James pointed out.

In response, she smacked him in the arm with the large textbook in her hand.

"Time's up," Slughorn proclaimed after what felt like far longer than the length of the class. "Does anyone's potions look like the book says it should? I don't expect—"

"Mine does, Professor," Snape called out.

"Kiss arse," someone mumbled from behind us.

Nonetheless, Slughorn made his way over to out cauldron, stirring the mixture once, leaning over and wafting the spiraling steam towards his face. "Ah," he sighed, a smile crossing his face. "Mister Snape, what does this smell like to you?"

"Brass polish, rain, and flowers," he said.

"And Mister Lupin?"

I inhaled the steam slowly, nearly coughing at the overwhelming scent of wet dog. After a moment, however, the scent mellowed into cinnamon, into chocolate, into laundry soap.

"Old books," I lied. "And chocolate."

"It smells like what we love," he clarified. "I smell brandy. Congratulations, Severus. A perfectly brewed potion."

He dismissed the class with a wave of his hands, and Lily rushed over to me. "You smelled old books? I smell old books too," she told me, smiling.

"Anything else?" I asked, hoping the question would distract her from uncovering my lie.

"Maple trees. And broomstick handle polish. Though I'm not sure why, as I don't even own my own broom."

All around us on the stairs leading from the dungeons, our classmates were excitedly revealing the scents of their hearts' desires. Vanilla and pumpkin juice and grass for Marlene. Spearmint and earl grey for Mary. Cedar and musk and chocolate for Lucas. Hal Summers smelled Emmeline's perfume, Hestia Jones smelled pomegranites, and Meg Greengrass smelled fresh blackberries and petrichor. James smilingly reported that he always smelled sweat and broomsticks and sweet pea shampoo.

"You sure you didn't smell human flesh?" Snape mumbled, pushing past me, clutching his book to his chest and running up the stairs. I clenched my fists and shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from going after him. There, however, my hands found something: a scrap of paper that I had forgotten I'd shoved in there a few days before.

I could hardly even remember why the article had seemed so important to me; the past few days had dragged on, feeling like weeks, lengthened by the pit in my stomach every time Sirius approached me in private. I dreaded that he would remember what had happened the night of the match against Slytherin, and at the same time, I dreaded that he didn't remember.

After a few moments of silent debate, I shoved the article back into my pocket. I wouldn't talk to him about it. Maybe, I decided, I'd leave it on his pillow that night or something so he'd see it and I wouldn't have to talk to him.

It wasn't so much that I didn't want to talk to Sirius as it was that I simply didn't know what I would say. Part of me wanted to bring it up, and part of me wanted to forget it had ever happened. I knew I was overreacting, but I couldn't get the feel of his lips or the scent of his skin off my mind.

I shook the thoughts from my head, focusing instead on the conversation going on in front of me.

"I didn't put the bloody pollen in at the wrong time!" James was nearly shouting, running a hand through his hair, exasperated.

"Well what else could have gone wrong? You saw it. It looked like mouldy tea," Lily responded, her face flushed.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe if you'd kept your eye on it instead of on your bloody book, the fire wouldn't have gone out!"

I sighed. "Cut it out, you two."

"Oh, you're one to talk!" James snapped. "You don't even _work_ on the Potions. You just let Snivellus do all the work and take credit for his work. You're bloody worse than Potions than I am, yet you lot are the only two to brew the sodding thing correctly."

I pressed my lips together, resisting the urge to snap back that no, I wasn't taking credit for any of it, and I would much rather have been partners with Lily.

"I'm sorry I'm finally tired of two of my best mates constantly bickering."

I walked away, headed for the library again, the sick feeling in my stomach getting worse and worse.

"Blimey," I heard James mumble behind me. "What was that about? Is it almost the moon or something?"

In a shocking turn of events, the next morning at breakfast began unremarkably, though it wasn't to last long. As Alice's absence grew longer, Lily had begun sitting with James, Sirius, Peter, and I at breakfast, perhaps because her dormmates now spent most of their time speculating about where Alice was.

She had been acting strangely around me since my outburst the day before, so as I sat down and poured myself a goblet of pumpkin juice, she looked up at me and mouthed 'Are you okay?'

I nodded weakly.

She looked unconvinced, and gestured for me to scoot down a few seats with her, until we were out of earshot of the others.

"Hey, I'm sorry about yesterday. James and I didn't mean to upset you. I hope you aren't still angry with us?"

"Of course not. Don't worry about it." I moved to scoot back down towards the others but she stopped me.

"Then what is it? Remus, I know you...I can tell when something's wrong."

I took a deep breath. "It's Sirius."

She looked startled. "Did something happen to him?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I just..."

I didn't know how to say it, but as always Lily seemed to know what I was going to say before I did.

"Oh my god. No. Did you... No. Did you?"

I nodded grimly.

"Oh no, Remus," Her eyes widened and she began shaking her head slowly. "Tell me you two didn't shag."

"We didn't _shag, _exactly."

"What does that _mean_? No, you know what? I don't even want to know."

"You asked," I shrugged.

"Right. Okay, but aside from the fact that I don't really want to think about you shagging anyone, why is that a bad thing? Was it..." She looked uncomfortable. "Was it not...y'know...good?"

"Doesn't bloody matter. He was drunk and he hasn't mentioned it since, so I'm to pretend it didn't happen and get on with my life, aren't I?"

She looked at me sympathetically. "Oh, Remus..." She paused for a moment, looking down. "You have to talk to him. You can't just go on pretending like it didn't happen, like you don't have feelings for him."

"I've ignored them this long. Makes it much easier, really."

She tutted loudly and rolled her eyes. "That's such a _boy_ thing to say. You can't just ignore things and hope that you'll never have to deal with them."

"Oh, because you certainly aren't ignoring any feelings for anybody."

Immediately, her face turned the same shade of maroon as her Gryffindor scarf. "I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled.

"Right. Of course you don't."

"And anyway," She retorted, face still bright red, "This isn't about me. I haven't 'not exactly shagged' anyone."

"Lucky you."

She sighed. "Just _talk_ to him, Remus. You're best friends. You've been best friends since you were eleven years old. You can talk to him."

"But I can't. Because once I acknowledge it, it changes everything. Then we aren't best friends anymore. It's all different."

"Oh, _please_, Remus. You don't honestly believe that, do you? You two have been through so much together already. He became an animagus for you. He nearly tore himself apart when he thought he'd gotten you expelled in fifth year for what happened at the Shrieking Shack. Or don't you remember? I think he _still_ hasn't forgiven himself for that."

"It's not the same. It's—"

"Hey, Moony!" Peter's voice interrupted me. I looked over at the table, where he sat with Sirius and James, motioning for me to come over. Silently exchanging a look, Lily and I moved back towards the group.

"Yeah?"

Peter swallowed a bit of toast as Lily and I took our seats. "Did you get that last answer on-?"

A large screech cut him off as hundreds of owls swooped into the Great Hall from the windows, carrying large parcels. Lily's owl, Zephyr, reached the table first, dropping off a couple of letters and that morning's _Prophet_. Lily ignored the letters, instead turning straight to the paper.

"Sorry, what were you saying Pete?" I spoke slightly louder over the noise.

He swallowed and took a swig of pumpkin juice. "I was wondering if you got the last answer on the Charms test? Flitwick mentioned it might be on our exam."

I furrowed my brow for a moment, trying to recall. "You mean the one on advanced nonverbal shield charms?"

He nodded enthusiastically, mouth full again. "You should ask Lily, she got a hundred percent—"

I turned to Lily and stopped mid-sentence at her expression. Her eyes were wide and staring at the newspaper in front of her, her lips were parted slightly, and she looked as though she might burst into tears. She looked at me for a moment, a helpless expression lining her face, before she dropped the newspaper and stood up, hurrying out of the Great Hall.

"Lily!" James was up immediately, and rushed out after her, practically jumping over the table to make sure he could keep up with her.

Before I could, Sirius reached over the table and snatched the Prophet, which was open to the page that Lily had been reading.

His face grew hard and serious. "David Clarke," he said slowly. "Who is David Clarke?"

I felt the blood begin to drain from my face and a sinking feeling hit the pit of my stomach. "Alice's brother."

He looked at me for a long moment, and then turned his eyes downwards towards the paper.

"He's dead."


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:** It's finally here! I'm so so so sorry for such the long wait. To make up for it, this chapter is extra long. Enjoy, and as always, R/Rv!

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><p>Chapter 25<p>

"Lily, wait up! Lily!"

James' voice echoed in the distance as I ran quickly and determinedly down the long corridor leading from the Great Hall to the Gryffindor common room. His footsteps were rapidly approaching me but I ran forward without looking back, pausing only slightly at the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Why, hello dear, what's—?"

"_Radix malorum!_" I yelled, my foot tapping anxiously against the marble floor.

Her face contorted with affront, and she huffed an insulted "Well I _never_" before the door swung open wide to the common room. The door swung shut behind me, and immediately I sprinted up the stairs leading to the girls' dormitory.

I collapsed onto my bed with a deep breath. I felt like my lungs had swollen up and breathing was getting harder, the front of my head was pounding loudly, and a million emotions were swallowing me up at once.

First, sadness. The killings had been bad enough before, but no one that I had ever met. Sure, it was terrible when Hestia Jones' brother was killed—but I hadn't even met him. David, on the other hand, was a few years ahead of us in school—a prefect, the Keeper of the Quidditch team. And, of course, whenever I visited Alice over the holidays, I would always see David there. He was kind and including, but also gave off an unmistakable air of strength. He and Alice were quite similar in that way. And now, thinking of him gone...thinking of Alice's pain, and her parents, and all of David's close friends. And his fiancee. With a jolt, I realized that I didn't even know if she had survived.

Then, panic. I wondered if Alice was safe, if her family was going to go into hiding or if she would be able to return to Hogwarts. Immediately, I thought of my own family. My parents...my sister. My stomach dropped as I pictured Petunia helplessly surrounded by the people who the _Prophet _was now calling 'Death Eaters.'

Anger followed—the unfairness of it all, the utter unjustness of this entire situation began to boil up in me and made me feel like I would explode, like one of Benjy Fenwick's potions. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear something apart, set it on fire, and toss it out the window. I looked around the room fervidly for any such object, when my eye was caught on a pillow on my bed.

As I reached for it, I heard a knock. My head whipped towards the door. _Relax_, I thought to myself. _Calm down._

"Who is it?" I called out in as steady a voice I could muster.

The door creaked open in response, and there stood James Potter, panting out of breath with a concerned look on his face.

"Normally people answer before just coming in," I mumbled, no strength to sound contemptuous.

"Normally people answer when someone chases after them down a corridor screaming their name," James said softly, sitting down next to me on my bed.

We sat there for a moment in complete silence.

"How did you—?"

"What's—?"

We spoke at the same time and both stopped midsentence, silence washing over us again. Our eyes didn't move off of each other for what seemed like years, each of us trying to convey meaning without words.

And then, just as suddenly as we both had spoken, we both burst into synchronized laughter for no apparent reason. We laughed without moving our heads, taking in the way that the others' eyes creased, the curve of the edges of the others' lips, the sound of each others' breaths in between laughs.

When our laughter finally subsided, our eyes were still on each other. Suddenly, it was as though his rich hazel eyes boring into mine became too much all at once—as though I hadn't quite realized just how long we were looking at each other until then. I felt my cheeks flush pink, and I looked away, my gaze landing on Alice's bed. Immediately, the emotions from before came flooding back, only now with another added to the mix: guilt.

"You go first."

I looked back to find James still sitting there, an expectant look on his face. It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about.

"Oh, erm...how did you get up here?"

His eyebrows knit as though he didn't comprehend. "Er...I walked?"

"But, boys aren't allowed in the girls' room," I persisted.

His face broke into a small grin. "What, are you gonna write me up, Head Girl?"

I rolled my eyes. "Not what I meant. Like, there are enchantments up to keep you out. The staircase melts into a slide."

His grin grew wider. "I walked quickly."

I sighed loudly. "Okay, actually, I probably don't want to know, do I?"

"Sirius' discovery," He explained with a wave of his hand. "Not important now. Okay, now my turn."

I waited expectantly, but he just stood there staring at me. I looked back for a moment, feeling slightly annoyed by his gaze.

"Well?"

He seemed as if he was snapping out of a dream. "Sorry, I…sorry." There was a pause, and I waited for him to continue. Finally, he looked at me, his eyes lined with a mixture of concern and tenderness that I'd never seen in him before.

"What's been going on, Lily?" He practically whispered. "What's wrong?"

I took a deep, shaky breath and tried to explain to him what was going on, starting at the beginning—what happened with Alice, how I was worried about her, my family, and also worried for my friends, and how through all of this I felt useless and scared because I wasn't doing anything, and what if this war would just go on forever and I would have to watch all the people I loved die?

Just as I was reaching the point where I was biting back tears, I felt James arms crash around me and pull me tightly to his chest, one hand holding the back of my head gently and the other wrapped around my shoulders. I cried quietly into his chest for what seemed like hours.

And then I took a deep breath and smelled it. Broomstick handle polish. My eyes widened, and immediately I pulled back.

Immediately, James' eyebrows drew closely together with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," I replied much too quickly. "I just…erm—you smell like broom polish."

He stared at me for a moment. "Er…yeah, I just cleaned my Nimbus before dinner. I spilled some on my robes."

"Oh…okay." There was silence for a moment, before we both spoke again at the same time.

"So what were you—"

"What did you want to—"

He smiled. "You first."

"I'm going to go find Dumbledore," I announced abruptly, standing up from my bed. "I want to talk to him about Alice."

"I'll go with you," He said immediately, standing up from the bed.

"No!" I said louder than I had anticipated. He raised an eyebrow at me. "I mean, that's alright…I'd rather to this alone."

He eyed me suspiciously. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Just…peachy."

I barely managed to escape the room without James following me, but I repeatedly assured him that I would be fine on my own and eventually and reluctantly, he let me go. I climbed down the flight of steps from Gryffindor tower, down to the third floor where the Headmaster's tower (and Dumbledore's office) was located. I immediately noticed the staircase to his office, and cautiously approached the large, ugly gargoyle statue guarding the entrance.

He appeared to be sleeping, so I cleared my throat. One large stony eye opened slightly at the noise.

"Password?"

I blinked. "Oh…um…"

The grey eye stared at me, merciless. I pulled at the sleeve of my robe. "Well, you see, I don't know the password but I would really like to speak to Professor—"

"No password, no entry," The gargoyle grumbled, closing his eye shut again.

"No, you don't understand—I'm not trying to waste his time, I just—"

"No password, no entry," It repeated without even so much as opening its eyes.

"_Listen_, you—"

"Miss Evans?" I was cut off by a soft, slightly bemused voice. Immediately, I swirled around and found myself face to face with Albus Dumbledore, who was peering at me through his light blue eyes with an amused look on his face.

"Professor!" I jumped back quickly from the statue and turned to face him. "I—erm—"

"It seems as though our paths have crossed at just the right moment, Miss Evans," He said with a twinkle in his eye. "I was just about to return to my office and search for a wonderful book that Professor Sprout lent me about Mediterranean water plants. Perhaps you would care to join me?"

"I—yes, certainly, sir," I responded, a little too hastily.

Smoothly, Dumbledore turned towards the gargoyle statue guarding his office. I noticed that the statue was now fully awake, attentively manning his post.

"Password?" The statue asked clearly and almost militantly.

"Ah, yes…" Dumbledore mused quietly. "I suppose it would be 'pixie puffs'."

The gargoyle nodded. "Right you are, sir." Immediately, a long spiraling staircase swirled down from the ceiling, covering the entrance completely and hiding the gargoyle from sight. I looked up the seemingly never-ending staircase, and then back to Dumbledore, who chuckled softly at my amazement.

"I do hope you will forgive my rudeness, Miss Evans, but I fear that it would make more sense for me to ascend to my office first, so that you do not find yourself lost."

"Of course," I sputtered a little too quickly as the Headmaster ascended the stone spiral staircase in front of me. The tower was dark, lit only by a few torches hung on the wall, and it slightly resembled the interior of a medieval castle.

When we finally reached the top of the tower, I was embarrassingly out of breath, although Dumbledore composed himself perfectly well. Politely, he ignored my reddening face and gasps for air as he led me towards a large wooden door and turned the brass handle, opening it into one of the most magnificent rooms I had seen in my seven years at Hogwarts.

Thousands of books lined the walls of his room—astronomy books, potion books, highly advanced spellbooks, and even a few well-known Muggle novels. The patches of his walls lacking books were plastered with portraits of former Headmasters of Hogwarts, most of which snoozed lightly against their gold-encrusted frames. Framed colored parchment detailing maps of stars, planets, moons, and galaxies hung all over the room, and a large color drawing of the world was plastered just above his desk, the globe moving slowly, highlighting specific areas of the world in deep shades of purple. I was immediately fascinated by this particular drawing, the way it spun so slowly and the different patches of land that literally lit up as my eye fell on them.

"Ah, yes," He spoke softly, nearly at a whisper, in a way very specific to Dumbledore. "I see you, like many others, are intrigued by the Traveler's Guide. My dear friend Elphias gave it to me after he won it as a prize in a particularly rousing game of Gobstones. The Guide details the entire world, spinning in time with the Earth's own rotations. Parts of the world which contains a high number of witches and wizards, or contains a high density of magical properties, turns violet as the viewer gazes upon it."

"Wow…" I muttered under my breath as I watched the masterful drawing twirl in front of me. I let my eyes wander over his office, and found myself awestruck by each little artifact that caught my eye. A golden spinning top on the corner of his desk, a brass chandelier ringed with fire that hung from the ceiling, a wrought-iron bookshelf that twisted in complex spirals.

"Please have a seat, Miss Evans." The Headmaster's voice brought me back to reality, and I sat down at a chair he was gesturing to in front of a large mahogany desk. I obliged, and sat down in the chair, hearing it creak ever so slightly.

"So," He began with a kind smile, "About what did you wish to speak to me?"

"Well," I began, my slightly trembling voice giving away my nervousness, "I wanted to speak with you about Alice Clarke."

His face showed no indication of surprise, and his brow furrowed in genuine concern. "Ah, yes. I'm afraid her family is going through a very difficult time."

I nodded. "Sir, I was wondering if you could tell me if you've heard from Alice. If you know where she's gone or when she's coming back."

He closed his clear blue eyes briefly, and there was complete silence for a moment before he opened them and looked, very seriously, at me.

"Lily," He said gently, "I have been in touch with Alice's family. I can assure you of their current safety, but I am afraid that I cannot provide anymore information of their whereabouts. The discovery of young Mr. Clarke's death was obviously very distressing for the entire Clarke family, but I'm afraid it goes beyond that. The entire family is in danger because of David's involvement in an organization called the Order of the Pheonix. Though, I don't believe you would have ever heard of the Order before—"

"No, I have, sir," I blurted out. He raised his eyebrows. "That is, James—James Potter—thinks his father might be a member. We were talking about it when I—er—visited him over the summer."

I thought I saw the faintest smile play on his lips before his countenance turned serious once more. "I see. Well, then perhaps you understand why Alice's family, particularly her parents, must be protected."

I nodded silently. "So…then she won't return to Hogwarts." I tried to hide my disappointment, because I knew that it was necessary for her family to go into hiding, but I still worried for her so much, and knew that wouldn't go away until I was able to see her again.

"I'm not sure about that," Dumbledore mused, surprising me. "I told Alice and her parents that, once David's funeral was over and they had the proper amount of time to grieve together, if Alice wished to return to Hogwarts we would accommodate her in any way possible and, of course, keep her safe. I believe they left the decision up to Alice."

I couldn't help but be a bit hopeful at the news that Alice might choose to return to Hogwarts.

"Thank you, Professor." I got up to leave but he stopped me.

"Miss Evans, before you leave, I must ask—how are you finding your duties as Head Girl? Not too taxing, I hope?"

I shook my head quickly. "Not at all, Professor. I'm really enjoying it."

He smiled again. "Wonderful. Have a good evening, Miss Evans."

"Goodbye, sir."

I took three steps towards the door before hesitating. Slowly, I turned around to face him again.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Miss Evans?"

I smoothed my skirt with the palms of my hands. "Do you think if I gave you a letter that you could get it to Alice?"

His blue eyes, lined with concerned, softened. "Of course."

I thanked him and exited his office quickly, scurrying down the tower past the gargoyle, feeling a bit better than when I'd entered. Alice was safe—her whole family was. And while I wished desperately that she were here, and that I could talk to her face-to-face, I was grateful to get the opportunity to write her.

That evening, when the rest of my dormmates were asleep, I lit the small candle on my nightstand, rummaged through a drawer until I found a quill and some stationary, and began to write my letter.

_Dear Alice,_

I hesitated, the ink on the tip of my quill threatening to drip onto the page before I had the chance to gather my thoughts. It was now the Monday before Halloween, and it had been over a month since we'd spoken. I took a deep breath. _Don't be ridiculous, Lily_, a critical voice in the back of my mind chided me. _This is _Alice. _Your best friend. Just bloody write something._

I sighed, dipped the quill back into the inkwell, and began writing again.

_I'm so sorry about your brother. I read it in the _Prophet_ this morning. I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through right now, and please know that I'm thinking of you and your family always and sending you love from the bottom of my heart._

_I've missed you terribly—everyone has. I went and spoke to Dumbledore today, and he told me that you and your family are safe, although he wouldn't tell me much else. It's probably best to keep it that way, at least until I see you face-to-face, since you never know what's safe to put in the post anymore._

I paused again. There was so much more I wanted to say, but heeding my own advice, I couldn't put it in a letter. I sighed, and continued.

_I hope to see you soon. Until then, stay safe._

_All my love,_

_Lily_

I read over the letter twice. It was wholly unsatisfying, but, I supposed, better than nothing. I slipped the letter into an envelope, kissing the tip of the envelope before flipping it over and writing her name on it on the front. Quietly, I took the candle from my nightstand and held it over the back flap of the envelope, tipping the candle so a few drops of hot wax sealed it shut. Then, I dropped it into my bag to give to Dumbledore the next day, placed the candle back on my nightstand before blowing it out, and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

The week passed slowly and unremarkably. Since we had only a bit over a month left before Christmas hols, and I was taking all of my classes at the NEWT-level, the week turned out to be painfully difficult, with a Potions essay, an Arithmancy exam, and two pop quizzes in Transfiguration. By the time Friday came, I was so exhausted that I nearly forgot it was Halloween until the feast.

"Come on, Lily, you _have_ to go," Marlene chided me, tugging at my arm.

"Yeah, seriously, Lily, you haven't eaten properly all week," Mary added from the other side of the room.

I groaned, turning slightly in my bed. "But I'm so comfortable…and I'm not even hungry."

As if on cue, my stomach rumbled loudly, and Marlene stared at me with an amused expression on her face.

"Sleep later," She commanded, literally pulling me out from under the blanket. "Right now you have to eat. And anyway, you'll feel much better once you have some interaction with actual human beings instead of your textbook."

"Fine," I pouted, begrudgingly putting my feet on the cold ground. "But after that I'm going straight to bed."

I walked down to the Great Hall with them, still fighting to keep my eyes open, when a heavy arm slung around my shoulders, causing me to nearly topple over.

"Wotcher, Evans!" A laughing voice boomed directly in my ear. Scowling, I pushed the arm off of me.

"Sod off, Black, I'm not in the mood," I snapped.

"Oi, I'm just trying to be friendly!"

"Well, go be friendly someplace else."

He laughed again, resting his elbow on my shoulder. "Oh, Evans. You need to relax a bit, love."

I glared at him. "And _you_ need to learn to communicate without invading others' personal space." I shrugged him off again.

"Anyway, I wanted to tell you lot," He said, gesturing at me and also Mary and Marlene, who were watching this whole scene amusedly. "Party tonight in the common room. Remus and I managed to nick some firewhiskey from the kitchens," he said with a wink.

Marlene and Mary twittered excitedly but I rolled my eyes. "First of all, I could write you both up for that, you know. And Remus—being a prefect!" Sirius smirked, knowing my threat was empty. Ignoring the smug look on his face, I continued. "And anyway, we can't just take over the common room."

"Sure we can!" He laughed. "You don't remember, back in our fifth year?"

I knew exactly what he was referring to. Back in our fifth year, after a particularly well-won Quidditch match, there was a huge party in the Gryffindor common room—streamers everywhere, firewhiskey by the gallon—it was marvelous.

"Of course I remember," I replied, crossing my arms. "But maybe _you_ don't. McGonagall broke it up after an hour—"

"So let us have our hour," Sirius interrupted. I hesitated, and he persisted. "Come on, Lily. You need this too."

I sighed. "Fine," I threw my hands up in exasperation, "I'll be there."

He grinned. "Excellent." And with that, he ran ahead of us towards the Great Hall.

We walked for a few more moments before Mary turned to me. "You're so lucky, Lily," She pouted, a strand of blonde hair falling in her eyes.

"Er—why?"

"Because, Sirius Black _always_ flirts with you," She said with a huff.

I laughed loudly and couldn't stop giggling for a good five minutes. "Oh, Mary," I said in between laughs. "I don't think I'm his type."

"And anyway," Marlene remarked, "James would kill him, wouldn't he?"

I snorted. "Please. Why would James care?"

They both stared at me.

"Please tell me you're joking, Lily," Mary said with mock concern.

"The boy's only been madly in love with you for six years!" Marlene chuckled.

I shook my head. "It's not like that anymore. We're…friends. He's protective of me because we're friends."

They exchanged a look. "It's true!" I insisted.

"Okay, Lily," Marlene said, sounding wholly unconvinced. "Whatever you say."

The feast was delicious as always, and after I was fully stuffed with ham and mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie, I found myself much more awake then I'd started. In fact, I almost was looking forward to it. And by the time I returned to the Common Room, and Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter walked in carrying bottles of firewhiskey and another bottle of something else, with Sirius yelling "Everyone 5th year and younger, out!" I was actually a bit excited.

"Oi, Sirius, what's that bottle?" Frank Longbottom asked, pointing at the bottle mixed in with the firewhiskey.

Sirius only grinned. "You'll see."

And that we did. The party was fun and energetic—Sirius somehow managed to play music throughout the Common Room by famous muggle rock bands, and about an hour and a half into the party I found myself feeling happier and freer than I had the entire week, laughing with my friends and dancing to all of the songs that I heard on the radio when I went home for the summer. And, when McGonagall came and finally broke the party up, two hours in, I was ready to go back to my room and finally get some sleep.

But Sirius had another idea.

After McGonagall left the room, Sirius pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey and the other, unidentified bottle. He instructed those of us left to sit in a circle on the floor, and, most of us slightly tipsy, we complied.

"Okay," He said in a hushed voice, in case McGonagall was still nearby. He brandished the bottle of not-firewhiskey. "Peter—glorious Peter—managed to nick a bottle of this from Slughorn's supply closet."

"What is it?" Marlene asked, eyeing the bottle suspiciously.

Sirius got a mad gleam in his eye. "Veritaserum. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the best game of truth or dare you'll ever play."

Normally, I would have immediately protested, but I had a fair amount of firewhiskey in me at this point, so I sat still, like everyone else, gazing intently at Sirius as he explained how, if we said Dare we had to take a shot of firewhiskey, and if we said Truth, a shot of Veritaserum.

"Okay, okay," Sirius hushed the buzz of excitement within the group. Who will go first…yeah, Fabion!" He pointed to Fabion Prewett, a red-haired boy with flaming red hair and a talent for mischief who sat next to his twin brother.

"Let's see," Fabion said, rubbing his chin with his thumb and index finger. "Dare."

Sirius grinned. "Alright, let's see." He paused for a moment, before snapping his fingers. "Got it. I dare you to serenade a person of your choosing with "_A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love_."

The game went on like this for awhile, with mostly vanilla dares and truths asked. It was funny, how predictable some people were. Sirius and James always picked dare, Remus always picked truth, and Peter seemed to avoid being called on altogether.

When it finally reached me, however, this changed.

"Truth or dare?" Sirius asked me, smiling slightly.

"Dare," I said immediately. I would much rather make a fool of myself than be subject to telling the truth on anything Sirius' twisted mind could come up with.

He didn't even hesitate. "I dare you to kiss Prongs."

My heart sank. I should have seen that coming. I glanced over at James, who looked much more surprised than I was. I thought that the firewhiskey must have been affecting me finally, because my heart started pumping faster and so loudly that I could barely hear anything over it. Tentatively, I walked over to James, who was fidgeting and blinking rapidly.

I was by his side. The two of us stared at each other for a moment. Slowly, I leaned down and moved my face towards his. I breathed in deeply. _Broomstick polish_. I nearly jumped back as I smelled it. He looked at me, concerned, and as quickly as I could I leaned back over and pecked him on the cheek.

Flustered, I walked back over to where I was sitting, ignoring Sirius' cries of "_That didn't count!_"

The rest of the game went by rather quickly, with Peter winding up with his pants around his ankles, Sirius detailing the unnecessarily graphic details of his first kiss, and Mary licking the portrait of the Fat Lady (who, by the way, was incredibly affronted.)

It was my turn again, and while the prospect of doing another dare was not particularly appealing, the small flask of veritaserum was even less so. I figured that if I managed to wiggle my way out of snogging James Potter that I could handle pretty much anything.

"Oh, sod it. Dare."

Sirius' eyes lit up, and he wore a fiendish smile on his face. I braced myself for whatever was coming next, wondering if I had drank enough that I could try to induce myself to vomit and get out of the game.

"Hmm…Evans. What to do with Evans…?" A look of comprehension dawned on him, and his smile turned even more maniacal. I braced myself, expecting the worst. "Alright then. I dare you to snog someone. For real."

I stared at him for a moment in horror. But, then I realized my loophole. "Someone?"

Sirius' smile faltered. "Er—no, I meant Prongs—"

I grinned widely. "Didn't specify that in the dare, did you Black?"

James was now openly glaring at him, his hazel eyes turned fiery and dark. But, Sirius merely shrugged apologetically toward him and looked back over to me.

"Well, Evans? Who's it gonna be?"

I paused for a moment, looking around the room. I didn't particularly want to snog anyone, but I wondered who would be the quickest and least painful. Frank Longbottom was nice, and would know it didn't mean anything…but Alice would murder me if she ever found out. My eyes moved slowly around the room, glazed over to Sirius, and before I knew it, a stroke of brilliance hit me.

"Remus! Get over here."

Remus' eyes widened, and before I knew it, a cacophony of sound blasted through the room, and James and Sirius were practically tripping over each other, trying to speak.

"Are you bloody _joking—_?"

"No fucking way, Evans!"

"I mean, honestly, _Moony_?"

"Remus won't do it though," Sirius concluded, although his normal waver of confidence was lacking. However, even through his slight inebriation, he realized that his protectiveness over who Remus snogged seemed to go beyond the boundaries of what a friend would normally do. He quickly covered his tracks. "I mean, Moony's too much of a bloody _gentleman_to—"

Before I knew it, Remus was walking over to me, and sat next to me. I saw him look nervously to James, then to Sirius, and finally back to me. Someone wolf whistled faintly in the background, and I found myself get inexplicably nervous. Before I could change my mind, I leaned forward. The room was literally silent, and I tried to ignore the shocked expressions that were inevitably gracing James and Sirius' faces as our lips met.

Remus was warm, and our lips moved slowly against each other, his pushing hungrily into mine. I was surprised with the amount of force he kissed me with, even more surprised when his hand found the small of my back and pushed me fiercely against him, and even _more_ surprised still when his tongue pushed through my lips and—_Merlin_, he was a good kisser.

Somehow my hands ended up in his hair, and his hand moved from my back and down to my knee, where his thumb tickled me gently. I wondered where he learned _that_from? After a few moments, we finally pulled away, and we looked at each other for a moment, our eyes interlocking. Immediately, we both burst into laughter, and were greeted with a thunderous round of applause from everyone but James and Sirius.

"You better run, Moony," James was pulling his wand out of his pocket, while Sirius merely maintained a low growl, looking angrily between Remus and I. I rolled my eyes, and glared at James.

"Really, Potter? It was a stupid _dare_—"

"Didn't look like you didn't enjoy it," Sirius grumbled, crossing his arms firmly against his chest. I nearly had to bite my lip to keep from laughing—they were actually _pouting_!

"Hey, issnot my fault that Lil's a brilliant snog," Remus said, shrugging his shoulders, his speech beginning to slur just slightly from the amount of firewhiskey in his system.

James' face was reddening, and I could see a vein sticking out on the side of his neck.

Frank cleared his throat loudly. "Alright everyone! Game's over. Stop gawking and get out."

A few sounds of protest echoed throughout the common room, but the authority in Frank's voice combined with James' murderous stare seemed to succeed in whisking everyone quickly out of the room.

I waited until nearly everyone had gone, leaving just James, Sirius, Remus, Frank, and me. And, Peter, of course.

"I'll, er—leave you lot alone then, yeah?" Frank asked, eyeing the four of us concernedly before slowly making his way back up the stairs to the boy's dormitory.

I waited until Frank had gone completely up the stairs and I heard the door to the boy's dormitory close before I turned to James.

"James, grow up. It was a dare," I snapped. Remus was a good kisser, but that didn't mean that I felt anything but friendship for him. It was like…snogging my cousin. A cousin who, incidentally, happened to be somewhat of an expert at snogging. And, anyway, it's not like James had any right to say who I snogged or where I snogged them.

"Oh really?" sneered Sirius, nearly as red as James. "Alright then. Moony, I dare you to kiss _me_." His face was triumphant, as he was confident that Remus would surely refuse, and thus Sirius would be able to prove the completely false notion that our kiss had, in fact, meant something.

But Remus was at Sirius' side even quicker than he had been at mine, and this time there was no hesitation. Remus dove towards Sirius' face, his hands grasped tightly around Sirius' head, fingers laced in his long, black hair. Sirius was unable to move his hands at first, most likely due to shock, but eventually they found their way to Remus' back and further down and down, until they settled in the back pockets of Remus' jeans. Sirius pushed him closer into him, their hips rocking slightly against each other as they continued to kiss hungrily. Remus' fingers grasped Sirius' hair more forcefully, pulling his face even closer to his. I could hear a throaty moan emitted from one of their mouths, although it was impossible to tell whose, since they seemed to practically melt into each other.

The room was silent, I prayed that someone would stop them before they just started shagging there, in the middle of the common room.

Peter coughed loudly, and Remus and pulled apart, although Remus remained halfway sitting on Sirius, and the two continued looking hungrily at each other. Slowly, they turned away from each other, looked around the room, and scrambled off of each other, stumbling over things.

"I think I'm gunnago to bed," Sirius said, his speech pronouncedly more slurred then before. Remus stumbled over his shoes and held out his arms in an attempt to balance himself. Both of them were acting much more drunk than they had been just five minutes earlier. Sirius staggered up the steps, and Remus, apparently not wanting to fuel fire to what had just happened, stumbled over to a couch on the opposite end of the common room, and flopped down on it face first.

"Well…" Peter joked weakly, "Looks like the game is over."

I laughed nervously, and looked over at James. His face was stony and unreadable, and he was lost deep in thoughts—ones which I knew had nothing to do with the kiss that Remus and I had shared which, at this point, looked like nothing more than a peck.

He got up without a word, and walked back up to the boy's dormitory, leaving me with Peter and a sleeping Remus, wondering what the hell just happened.


	26. Chapter 26

Still partially hung over from the previous day's party, my transformation — alone, this time, as my inebriated friends had barely made it out of bed on Saturday, let alone down to the Shack — had left me in a worse state than that to which I was accustomed. I had returned to the castle Sunday morning aching, tired, and looking like I had been in several fist fights, so Madame Pomfrey had insisted I stay. In fact, she had locked the door herself to assure I wouldn't wander off until she had thoroughly confirmed that I was fit to be up and about.

I missed lunch and dinner under her watch, so when she finally released me with just enough time to get back to Gryffindor tower before dark, I took a detour to the kitchen, where several of the house elves already had a full meal waiting for me.

Hungry as I was, I could barely stomach a bite of the delicious food, in part because I was still nauseated (I made a mental note that, no, firewhiskey and veritaserum did not mix well and the combination should be avoided in the future) and in part because I could almost still feel the ghost of Sirius' lips pressed to mine and this time had certainly not been a dream and no one had forgotten, I was sure of it from the puckering faces Peter had made at me the next morning.

I thanked the elves for my untouched meal and made my way cautiously in the dark to the Fat Lady, who frowned in an expected disapproval as I muttered the password.

The common room was already empty, the other students having gone to bed to rest up for Monday's classes, so I ascended the stairs to the dormitory quickly. Yet, I hesitated at the top of the stairs, for just inside the door I swore I heard James whisper my name.

"-dunno what you were getting at, daring Remus like that, you sodding-"

"Bloody hell, can't a bloke dare his mate to do anything without everyone getting all up in arms? You've had a stick up your arse about this all day!"

"But _snogging _him? What would possess you to-"

"Am I under interrogation? Prongs, it was a _game. _Besides, it wasn't the first time."

My heart or my stomach or something shot into my throat, blocking my airways, threatening to suffocate me. I didn't want to hear any more but my unoxygenated muscles refused to move away from the door.

"What?"

"We, erm, you know... we..." Sirius' soft voice trailed off, and I could only assume he was making some sort of awful hand gesture to demonstrate to James just exactly what we had, erm, done.

"At least," he continued after a painful moment, "I think we did. It was after the match against Slytherin. Stuff's still, you know, hazy."

So I hadn't dreamt it, then. In a small way, it made me feel a bit better, but it made me feel worse in a much, much larger way.

"You have actually, royally fucked up everything, you know that Padfoot?"

"What? It's not like I'm going to snog _you_. I'm not some bloody poofer or—"

"I don't bloody _care_ if you like to snog men, Sirius, that doesn't matter. What matters is that you snogged _Remus_, and he— well, he fancies you."

At that moment, I think if I had been capable of breathing I would have vomited.

"_What?"_

"Merlin, Padfoot, are you bloody _blind?_"

"He _fancies _me?"

I was so busy plotting inconspicuous ways by which to dispose of James' body that I forgot to listen to was he said next, though I did hear what sounded an awful lot like Sirius saying, "well maybe that's not so bad."

"How is that not bad!"

"Well, do you mean, like, properly fancies? Not like you fancy Evans, right? Because it isn't like I've never thought about the occasional snog with him or anything, and it is a bit flattering..."

I wanted to rip my heart from my chest because, despite knowing that there would be nothing worse than being Sirius Black's occasional snog when he ran out of eligible girls, I couldn't help but think that maybe there would be nothing better than the feeling of his lips on my neck or his hand snaking its way down the front of my trousers...

There was a loud thump just on the other side of the door.

"-the _FUCK!"_

"That was practice. Is this some ruddy ego trip for you? Having your best mate fancy you? You're a sick twat and if you kiss Moony again, I swear to god, you sodding _wanker_, I will break your fucking jaw."

Sirius was shouting, "_I'm _your best mate, shouldn't you be siding with _me?" _but I had heard enough for one night. I made my way down the stairs, half thinking that a couch would have so suffice, and half thinking that, yes, it was exactly like how James fancied Lily, and almost envying James, almost thinking that things would be much, much easier if Sirius hated me.

I couldn't meet Sirius' eyes at breakfast the next morning. In fact, I had trouble meeting anyone's eyes. I was scared of the looks I knew I would find on each of their faces — regret on Sirius', pity on James'. Needless to say, the awkwardness that permeated the hesitant conversation was enough to take away my appetite long before I'd even filled my plate with food.

"Are you okay?" Peter whispered from his seat next to me, concern spreading across his face.

"Not feeling great," I said, and it wasn't entirely a lie.

"You should take it easy. Go to the hospital wing. Your face is bleeding and you're white as a ghost. I'll run down and tell Slughorn you're sick before I head to Herbology if you want."

"Thanks." I gave him a half-hearted but honestly grateful smile before standing up to leave the Great Hall.

I didn't go to the hospital wing, though. I'd had enough of Madame Pomfrey's fretting and hovering over the weekend and was less than eager to let her worry about a few remaining scrapes that I could take care of myself.

Instead, I started to make my way towards the Gryffindor common room, and was halfway there when I realized that it wouldn't be long before Sirius was back there, frantically trying to finish Arithmancy homework while the rest of us were in class. I changed courses, heading instead to the library where I figured I could sleep at one of the tables in the back.

Or, more likely, I realized, not sleep. I hadn't finished my Arithmancy homework yet either, and I still had an essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and a pile of research still to do before we could perfect our prank. Not to mention I was supposed to be tutoring Gideon in Transfiguration later on that day, and Prefect rounds that night, and—

I fell to the floor, feeling a large partially healed cut on my arm split back open and start to bleed. I blinked the stars out of my eyes before looking up to see what I had run into while lost in my thoughts. Or, rather, who I had run into.

"Remus? Oh, Merlin, are you okay?" Lucas asked.

"'m fine," I mumbled, standing up and brushing myself off.

"You're bleeding! Did I—"

"No. No. That was already there."

He looked concerned, so I quickly added, "I was helping Peter with Charms this morning and, well..."

I laughed as I trailed off, and his face eased into a smile, and I was relieved that my joke had seemed to assuage his concern.

"Is that why you're out of Potions?"

I nodded and lied, "I was just in the hospital wing."

And then, it occurred to me, "Wait, why aren't you in Potions?"

He shrugged. "Slughorn kicked me out?"

"Why?"

"Er, well..." His face flushed a deep red and he looked at the floor. "Severus was insulting you, so I hexed him."

"You _what?_" I couldn't help but laugh at the image.

"Bat-Bogey Hex," he mumbled, and then began to laugh as well. "He was being a complete git, calling you lazy and Slughorn was agreeing, and so I hexed him, and Slughorn told me to report to Professor Flitwick, and when I told Flitwick he laughed, too. What are you up to?"

"I was going to go to the library to finish my Arithmancy work. I've been having some trouble with it."

"Well, you want me to help you out?" He asked, gesturing down the hall. "I've got to grab my book from the common room first."

"That would be great, actually," I smiled, a strange warm feeling filling my chest.

"Have you ever been in the Ravenclaw common room?"

I shook my head, and he smiled and grabbed my hand. "Come on!"

Three floors up, we stopped in front of an old, solemn-looking suit of armor, and Lucas stepped in front of it and said, "Hey, wake up!"

The Knight slowly shifted, raising its faceplate with one hand, and a low, soothing voice uttered, "I'm the part of the bird that's not in the sky. I can swim in the ocean and yet remain dry. What am I?"

Lucas laughed. "You're off your game, buddy. A shadow, right?"

The Knight lowered its faceplate and stepped to the side, saying, "Enter."

We climbed a spiral staircase quickly and entered a large open room, almost the entirety of the walls covered floor to ceiling in shelves upon shelves of books — everything from large tomes of magic books to leather-bound muggle classics, all alphabetized like a giant private library. The portion of the room that wasn't shelves was a giant bay window that looked out over the great lake, and sunlight streamed through the window, falling on the grand blue armchairs that sat scattered throughout the room.

The room was empty, and he turned to me and said, "Unfortunately, you aren't technically allowed any farther than this. But just wait for a minute, and I'll grab my stuff from my room, okay?"

I waited in the doorway on the balls of my feet, my breath held inexplicably, for what felt like an hour before he ran back down the stairway on the other side of the room, brandishing his textbook and a scroll of parchment.

"Got it!"

"Library?" I asked, turning towards the door.

"There's no one here, I doubt any of the other Ravenclaws will be too mad if we just work here."

So we did, our homework sprawled hastily across the mahogany table in the center of the room, me in one of the surprisingly comfortable arm chairs, he standing behind me, leaning over me to point out the errors he could spot in my work, his warm breath in my ear.

"Where were you during Arithmancy?" Lily asked me at dinner that night, whispering ferociously under her breath as she pulled me down the table, away from James and Peter and Sirius.

"Lost track of time."

"Well, I think we should talk about what happened Friday," She said, looking over her shoulder towards the end of the table where Sirius sat.

My stomach sank. I had nearly succeeded in my goal of completely forgetting the events of the weekend, but it was just like Lily to not let me ignore my problems until they went away. I decided to feign ignorance. "Friday? You mean when you kissed me? Lily, honey, I know I'm incredibly handsome, but it was just a kiss. I just don't feel that way for you."

"Ha, ha," She rolled her eyes, but her face immediately flushed pink. "You know that's not what I'm talking about, Remus."

"Look, Lil, I was having such a good day until right now. Can you just let me wallow under the pretense of ignorance for a while?"

"No, I can't." She crossed her arms and stared at me severely. "You can't keep hiding from your problems, Remus. We've had this conversation a thousand times. Things aren't just going to go away if you pretend like they never happened, especially when you sleep two beds down from him."

"But it _would_ go away if you'd stop talking about it. I'm perfectly happy ignoring it altogether. In fact, I'll have you know I spent a very nice afternoon today with a completely different guy and didn't even think about him once, so I think ignoring the problem is the perfect solution." I stood up, frustrated, and picked up my bag to go, but she stopped me before I could walk out.

"Don't do this, Remus," She spoke in a low voice, her tone very serious. "Don't pull away because you're afraid of what could happen. What you and Sirius did isn't going to go away, and it's going to change things between you. It already has. I'm not going to tell you that talking about it will make everything better, but ignoring it will definitely make it worse."

"What Sirius and I _did _was a stupid dare and nothing more. Look, I've got a lot of work. I'll see you later."

For what felt like the thousandth time in just a few short days, I couldn't bear to go back the the common room. It felt terrible, like in some strange way my home, my sanctuary was being taken from me little by little. Everywhere felt like a war-zone. And so, yet again, I headed for the library, my head aching and my stomach lurching.

Peter was already at my usual table when I'd arrived, which was strange as I hadn't noticed his absence at dinner. He was buried up to his shoulders behind a pile of books on the floor, hunched over a large, ominous-looking tome, from which he was frantically copying notes.

"Hey, Pete. What're you doing?"

"Some research for the prank," he mumbled, not looking up from the page. "Wanna help?"

"I, uh, I've got a lot of work to do. How's it going, though?"

"Fine. Yeah, it's great."

I sat down, pulling out my Potions books, and set down to work. My mind, however, had other plans, and before I knew it I was drifting off to sleep, dreams of the past weekend not far from my mind.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Here it is, the long awaited and much-anticipated chapter 27! Sorry again for the wait-updates should theoretically go a lot quicker in the summer. Don't forget to read and review!**

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><p>My eyes were starting to droop and the page in front of me was getting blurry to the point where reading was practically impossible. The fading light of my lantern didn't help much, either, but exams were only a month away and, with the number of courses I was taking this year at the NEWT level, not studying was an impossibility.<p>

I always enjoyed being in the library this late at night. My third year, I discovered a large carrel just beyond the Restricted section that no one else seemed to know about. With the library almost empty, and the seclusion of my own little room, I felt almost as though I was on an island of my own, thousands of miles from the real world, surrounded only by a sea of books.

Which is why I was surprised when a knock came on the door. I held up the lantern to focus my eyes, and saw the face of James Potter, peering through the window in the door at me.

"Er…come in?" I called out, my voice slightly wavering. The door immediately opened.

"Hey," He smiled genuinely, running a casual hand through his hair. "What're you doing up so late?"

"Studying," I sighed, gesturing to the stack of books on my table. I eyed him suspiciously. "And what about you?"

"Same, actually," He laughed, "Hence, the library."

"Oh," my face flushed. That made sense. I had assumed he was up practicing for Quidditch or something, but it struck me that his coursework was just as difficult and involved as mine.

"Yeah," he said weakly, looking at me. A moment passed between us, each of us staring at the other, and instantly, I felt this heat wash over me, as though someone had dipped me into a warm bath from my toes all the way up to the top of my scalp. My heart starting pounding, and it was almost like the room was getting smaller and smaller.

And suddenly, his lips were on mine.

I gasped quickly at the contact with his dry, warm lips, which moved smoothly and expertly against mine, pausing just a moment before reciprocating the kiss, hungrily and fervidly. My hand crawled up his back, around his neck, clutching on to his perpetually untidy hair that always drove me crazy, but now in a different way.

And then his hand was on the small of my back, and I couldn't take it anymore, I had to be as close to him as possible and I pulled him closer, breathing in his musky scent of grass and cotton and broomstick polish. His tongue slid through my lips and I moaned embarrassingly loud, but he didn't seem to mind because he just pulled me closer against him, our lips never breaking contact.

Suddenly, I felt something metal digging in to my back, and I opened my eyes and realized I was against a bookshelf. He leaned into me, his lips now moving across my jaw, down my neck, my collarbone. I leaned against the bookshelf to keep my balance, and a few paperbacks fell on top of his head. He cursed, and I couldn't help but giggle. He looked up at me, his hazel eyes locking with my green ones, and before I realized what I was doing, we were on the ground and he was under me and we were kissing and fumbling with each other's clothing, him trying to unbutton my shirt while I rocked against him, creating a most wonderful friction, all without our lips leaving each other.

He pulled away suddenly, and my head cleared a little. I was lying on the floor now, him leaning over me, his arm propping him up so that his head was directly above mine. He leaned down, and gently kissed the edge of my cheek.

"Lily," He whispered in my ear, making me shudder and try to pull his body closer to me. He chuckled softly, kissing my earlobe and grazing his teeth over it, making me moan even louder than before. "Lily…I love you."

I murmured something incoherently, and pulled him closer to me, just wanting to feel his hands on my skin, his body against mine, wanting to quench some of the heat pooling in my stomach. I felt his lips on my cheek curl into a smile, and then his hand was on my knee, softly tickling up my leg, under my skirt…

"Lily?"

With a jolt, my eyes shot open immediately. It took me a millisecond to realize I was not in the library, I was in my bed, my hands clutching my blanket very tightly. I sighed. I was dreaming. I didn't know whether to be relieved or…well, to be honest, I felt a bit disappointed. Realizing this, my face flushed as my eyes met Marlene's, who was standing over my four-poster with a worried look on her face.

"Are you okay, Lil?" She asked with concern. "You kept making noises in your sleep. It sounded like you were having a nightmare or something…"

My faced flushed again. My dream definitely fell under the "or something" category. And the fact that it was James…I felt my face turn scarlet. This was bad.

"Yeah…"

"It's ok, Lily," She said with a soothing voice. "You don't have to be embarrassed. I get nightmares all the time. With this war…it's completely reasonable."

I nodded, unable to make noise out of sheer mortification. If she even knew…but she didn't. She patted me lightly on the shoulder and crawled back towards her bed. I must have woken her up with my…er…"noises." I felt my blush deepen even more, and resigned myself to getting out of bed now, even though it was still an hour or so before I needed to be up. The thought of returning to my dreams now was…well…not an option.

After I showered and gotten dressed for the day, I headed down to the Common Room with a book, determined to enjoy my Monday morning as much as I could. I was startled to find Remus there, Sunday's _Prophet_in his hands, evidently doing the same.

"You're up early," I said as brightly as I could manage this early in the morning. He looked up from the newspaper and smiled slightly. He looked like he had barely slept that night, with dark circles rimming his eyes. That look had, unfortunately, become quite common for Remus.

"As are you," he replied, flicking to the next page with his thumb. My eyes immediately scanned the page for news about any disappearances, but it was difficult to tell from the angle I was at.

"Anything new?" I asked nonchalantly, looking at his face for any indication of emotion.

He shrugged, offering me the paper. "One of the Dolohovs was arrested for attempted murder of a muggle-born girl in Knockturn Alley. The rest of the news is just the same as usual."

My eyes scanned the front page. The advertisement for a cleaning potion was physically larger than the tiny article about the Dolohovs. The other headlines boasted news such as "SMALLEST PYGMIE PUFF FOUND IN SOUTHWEST EGYPT" and "101 WAYS TO USE THE 'ACCIO' SPELL" (I found myself chuckling at the unintended innuendo at the last one). Altogether, it was as Remus had said-exactly the same as usual.

"I can't tell if this is good or bad," I mused, folding up the paper and handing it back to him. "Either there's no bad news, or they just aren't reporting on it."

"My preference would be to believe the former, but it would be naive of me," he sighed.

I plopped down on the couch next to him, glancing over at the window. The sun was just beginning to rise, and it would still be awhile before anyone else woke up. I looked over at Remus, who was now staring ahead silently, eyes unfocused but looking towards the fireplace.

"We really should talk," I said quietly.

He raised his eyebrow, turning his head towards me. "Should we?" He asked, looking skeptical.

"We don't have to talk about Sirius," I amended quickly, "Right now, at least. But, er...I sort of need your advice."

"Ah," he responded. "Advice I can do."

I shifted uncomfortably, unsure of where to start. "Well..." and then all of my words kind of jumbled together a bit. "?"

He snorted slightly. "I had better marks than you in Divination because I kept predicting my own death. Dreams are hardly indicative of our real feelings, unless deep down somewhere I'd really like to go shopping for cakes with Professor Slughorn in the future."

I exhaled a little. "Okay. Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Why? Have a dream you were going to fail midterms?"

I forced a laugh. "Yeah, something like that." I tried to act cool and collected, but I knew my face was betraying me. I was never the best at lying, especially to Remus, who always seemed to pick up every small detail.

"Lil?" He eyed me cautiously. "What's bothering you?"

"Just...just a confusing dream," I offered, shrugging a bit. I reckoned that vague was the best route to take in this situation. "I can't stop thinking about it." Instantly, my face flushed.

"Want to talk it out?"

"_No._" I said a little too quickly. Remus' eyebrows shot up. "I mean, no, that's alright."

He sighed, picking up the book on the table next to him. "Suit yourself, but the offer stands."

I looked at him for a moment, realizing that he probably was the only person I _could_ talk to right now, what with Alice being absent. _'But he's one of James' best mates_' the voice inside my head chided. _'You can't talk to him about _James_. It's too weird._'

_'On the other hand...he's one of my best mates too...'_

After about five minutes of perfect silence, I couldn't take it any longer. "I might have had a dream about James." I blurted out, instantly wincing and wishing I could take my words back.

He held up a hand. "If you were violently murdering him, don't tell me. I'd like to be able to plead ignorance when his body turns up."

I laughed. "Yeah, er...not exactly." I blushed the color of my hair, and looked down.

"_Oh," _he said, his eyes growing wide. "One of _those_dreams."

I coughed, and stared at the floor, too mortified to do anything but nod.

"Was it a good one, at least?"

I thought back to my dream, and recalled it like it a real memory. The feeling of his lips against mine, his fingers on my skin, the way my heart pounded the closer he got to me. I felt my lips curl into just the faintest smile and, still too painfully embarrassed to look up at him, I nodded again. "But you said dreams don't necessarily mean anything," I reminded him.

"No, they don't. And thankfully, too. Did I ever tell you about the one I had with Rory McDonnell?" He smiled, chuckling. "No need to be embarrassed, Lil."

I smiled halfheartedly, finally able to make eye contact with him. "I guess. It's just, well...I didn't want to wake up...I didn't exactly wake up on my own. Marlene...er...heard...well, she thought I was having a bad dream. So when I woke up, she was sort of standing over me, and it was pretty uncomfortable all around, I'd say."

"Huh, I didn't realize how different a dorm of girls would be than a dorm of guys. We just throw a pillow at the person dreaming and tell them to take a cold shower."

I looked at him, shock written clearly on my face. "Does that happen often? That's — that's so incredibly awkward."

"With five of us? Pretty often."

"But...isn't that weird with, you know...you and Sirius?"

His face turned red immediately, and he held up his book to cover his face. "Why would that be weird?" He asked, his voice slightly higher than it had been only moments before.

I bit back a laugh. "Oh, I don't know. I mean, if I actually had to _see_ James today — " I stopped mid-sentence as I realized that yes, in fact I _would_be seeing James today, seeing as we had two thirds of our classes together. I frowned, and started again. "Well, anyway, I imagine it'd be a bit weird to wake up and see the person you were — erm — dreaming about, lying in bed twenty feet away from you."

He shrugs. "I've grown accustomed. I sleep with my pillow over my face."

"It's true, he does." My blood ran cold as I turned and saw James standing there in his pajamas, hair pointing in every which way, yawning widely. "Morning, you two. Why're you up so early?"

"When did you get here?" I squeaked, my face heating up instantly.

"Just now, why?" He smoothly walked over next to the fireplace and opened up a small coffee table drawer, taking out a bit of some sort of pastry, and bit into it. "You two swapping secrets?" He asked, his voice muffled by the food.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Remus cut me off before I had the chance to say something I would regret.

"She was asking how I manage not to cringe every time I roll over and see your big ugly face through the crack in my curtains."

James' face filled with mock indignation. "I'm hurt, Moony. And I thought waking up to my face was the highlight of your day!"

Remus looked towards me meaningfully, and before James had the chance to notice, I stood up quickly. "Well, this has been a lovely chat but I need to look over some notes before breakfast."

I turned to go, but as my foot hit the first step, I heard James call out to me.

"Hey, Lily?"

My stomach filled with dread. So he _had_heard me after all. I took a deep breath, a million possible excuses running through my mind. I inhaled slowly and turned around. "Yeah?"

"Don't forget, we have to do Prefects' rounds together next Friday, so we can submit our end-of-the-semester Heads' report," He said calmly, taking another bite into his pastry.

"Oh," I said, relieved, albeit a bit surprised. "Yeah I — I actually completely forgot about that. Are you sure it's next week? There's still a few weeks left before break."

"Only three weeks until exams, the next weekend's Hogsmeade and the one after that, Dumbledore reckons we'll be too busy studying. Remember, he told us this in the letter?"

"You're right," I said, instantly recalling the contents of my Head Girl invitation. I felt a pang of guilt — I had assumed he hadn't bothered to read through the letter, and now it was obvious that he had read it more thoroughly than I had. "Thanks for reminding me. I'll see you both later."

I turned and headed towards the staircase to the girls' dormitory. I was thankful that I had been smart enough, when talking to Remus, to leave out the part of my dream that worried me the most. After all, it wasn't as though I hadn't, on occasion, recognized that James was good-looking. The whole _school _recognized that, although Sirius was always the one going on dates with a new girl every week. That wasn't what bothered me about the dream — what I made sure to leave out was the one detail that almost scared me: James saying that he loved me.

I frowned. Why would I dream up that? Was it because Mary and Marlene seemed so certain that he still had feelings for me? Did I _want_ him to love me, on some attention-seeking level? I looked down, realizing that I had reached the top of the stairs. I still had a good fifteen minutes before anyone would wake up. So, I sat quietly on the edge of my bed, twirling my scarf through my hands. _Should I write to Alice? _I wondered, eyeing my stationery set that sat patiently on the top of my dresser. Immediately I ruled that option out — how would I even put that in a letter? _Dear Alice, You know the guy I haven't been able to stand being in the same room with for the past seven years? The one who's asked me out upwards of fifty times, and who I rejected every single time he did? Yeah, well, I had a dream we were kissing and that he confessed his love for me. xoxo, Lily_. I shook my head. There was no possible way that would work, so my stationary set stayed put.

But, who else could I talk to? Not Remus, who already knew way too much. We might have been mates, but he was James' best mate first. There's no way he could keep this from him. And, I couldn't talk to Mary or Marlene — they would immediately jump to the conclusion that I had feelings for him, or something equally ridiculous.

Just when I was about to give up hope, it suddenly hit me: Emmeline. Sure, we weren't the best of friends, but she was thoughtful, non-judgemental, and she'd had the most experience with relationships out of all of us, currently in her third long-term relationship with a Ravenclaw boy in our year, Hal Summers.

_But one of those past relationships was Remus_, I remembered suddenly, realizing that it might be odd to accost my mate's ex-girlfriend with advice on my mate's best friend. But, I decided that my need for advice had to trump any feelings of discomfort I might have. I made a mental note to talk to her sometime soon.

—-

The rest of the day went by without much event, with only the occasional moment of tension between Remus and Sirius. Remus seemed to be avoiding Sirius altogether, taking extra precautions to ensure he was sitting as far away from Sirius at meals as possible, and staying only for a few moments before running off to the library or the Common Room to study.

Sirius seemed more irate than usual, as well. He and James were talking again, but only barely, and more often than not, those discussions erupted into heated arguments. On Tuesday, you could hear them fighting in the dorms all the way down in the Common Room. I was finishing up an Arithmancy problem set when I heard a muffled cry of:

"Jesus, don't you _ever_ think of _anyone_but yourself?"

Remus, who was reading in an armchair across from me, immediately looked up at the staircase towards the boys' dormitory, where James' booming voice was emanating from.

Sirius' quiet response was too muffled to hear, but James continued shouting.

"Yeah? Well you've got a fucked up way of showing it, Padfoot." There was a pause as James' voice became too low to hear. I looked over at Remus, whose face had grown very pale. He picked his book up from his lap and began to look at the page, though his eyes just stared without reading.

A moment later, a door slammed shut, and Sirius came bounding down the stairs, his face stony and his lips pressed together hard in a line. He locked eyes with Remus for a brief moment, his expression unchanging, before he turned on his heel and exited through the portrait hole. Remus paled even more before turning back to his book and continuing to read half-heartedly.

Things continued like that for most of the week, with each of us avoiding the other. By Thursday, it seemed as though no one was really talking to anyone.

Our professors even began noticing. In Transfiguration, McGonagall commented on the "rare and unusual occasion of seeing James Potter sans Sirius Black," as the two were, for the first time in seven years, no longer sitting together.

Even Slughorn must have noticed my awkwardness around James, as he made me pair up with Severus for a demonstration, not realizing that doing so would certainly not make me feel any more comfortable. We both stirred the pot in succession and silence for a few minutes. Then, in almost a whisper, he spoke.

"How have you been, Lily?" he asked with a feigned air of casualness. Immediately, my defense went up. If there was one thing I could be sure of with Snape, it's that there was no such thing as a casual conversation with him. Everything always had to have an underlying purpose.

"I've been well," I responded cooly, dropping a bit of wormroot into the brew.

Severus' body tensed up. "I'm glad to hear it. I thought perhaps something was amiss, since you seem to spend all of your time with Potter and his merry band of delinquents."

I stopped stirring, ignoring the potion's immediate fizzing, and stared at him. Few traces of the boy from my childhood remained in his aspect, replaced instead by a darkness I couldn't quite understand. Instead of feeling angry with him, though, I just felt sad. It was obvious just by looking at him that he was miserable. I wondered when he reached this point. I drew in a breath.

"James and his friends have been incredibly kind to me," I spoke quietly, absentmindedly stirring our potion. "Particularly James. He's been looking out for me, he took me into his home — "

"_What_?" Severus' face turned sharp. "You — you went to his _house_?"

"Yes," I snapped impatiently, "Because in case you've forgotten, I need protection. You know, being a _mudblood_and all."

He cringed. "Lily, don't — "

I held up my hands. "I'm not. I'm just reminding you that you, of _all people_, have no right to judge _anyone._Especially him."

Snape's jaw tightened. "I didn't realize you were defending him now." I remained silent for a moment, and he continued, a tone of near-pleading in his voice. "You know he's not worth it. You yourself have said before — "

"Yeah, well," I cut him off, my voice turning aggressive, "Maybe I haven't always been the best judge of character. After all, I was once friends with you."

Snape's face grew pale, and he looked down. "I see," he whispered, and, silently, he poured a few drops of our potion into a vile and walked over to Slughorn, who eyed it with delight.

"Marvelous!" he squealed, raising the glass to one of his warm blue eyes. "See this shade of rosy pink? _This_is how it ought to look. Not maroon —" he gestured to Sirius and Peter's cauldron, "nor...er...black," he said, looking disappointedly at James and Remus' steaming pile of goo, "But the most delicate shade of rose. Fantastic work, Miss Evans, Mr. Snape. You two make quite the pair!"

Snape's eyes flashed but he remained silent. "Thanks, Professor. But I think James needs me," I nodded towards James and Remus' potion, which now began exuding a thick greenish smoke.

"Yes, indeed he does," Slughorn tutted with a concerned expression. "Boys! Step away from the cauldron, that smoke appears to be mildly toxic!"


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: **Hey guys! Sorry this has taken me so long to update - my internship this summer has been kicking my ass daily and I've been too busy/exhausted to write as much as I'd like. But nevertheless, here is the update, a little short and a lot late. Hope you enjoy it! -Christine

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><p>That evening in the library, Lucas wouldn't stop laughing at the greenish splotch that had appeared on my face after Potions class.<p>

"I'm sorry, I know it's awful," he told me between soft chuckles, "but Slughorn really should have known better than to pair you with James, of all people."

I groaned, covering my face with a book again, less to hide the green spots and more to hide the bright red blush that was spreading across my cheeks and clashing horribly with said green spots.

"You know, you might actually be decent at Potions if you had a tutor who knew what he was doing," he said, smiling.

"Why, do you know someone? Because Severus would eat his own cauldron before tutoring me."

"I could, if you wanted."

I smiled, bringing the book down from my face.

"Yeah? Could you start by whipping up an antidote for the hideous addition to my complexion?"

"But you look so good in green," he joked. "It really brings out your eyes."

I hit his arm with my book playfully, but he just smiled and said, "We'll start this weekend, yeah?"

The weekend brought with it the first snow — a nice harbinger for the winter holidays quickly arriving — and while for normal people this signaled a Saturday of sitting inside where it was warm, with cups of cocoa and the common room fires, for James it meant Quidditch practice. They had a match against Ravenclaw the week we were to get back from Christmas hols, and so he'd been working the team harder than ever. And, unfortunately for me, it meant he was up and bouncing around the room in excitement at five in the morning, pressing his face against the window to determine if the snow was going to impede their practice or not.

"Might as well practice in the snow in case it snows during the match," he decided before turning on me and making me promise to come down the the field to watch. "You've got a good tactical eye, I want your advice on a few plays," he told me, even when I tried to object and tell him that I really knew very little about Quidditch at all.

So, of course, the solution to being forced down to the Quidditch pitch early on a Saturday morning in the freezing cold was to make my best mate equally miserable in the process.

"I'm not coming with you," Lily argued over breakfast, hiding behind a large book. "I've got to study."

"So bring your work with you. That's what I'm doing."

"It's cold and wet and awful out," she huffed.

I sighed, looking around and lowering my voice to whisper the one thing I knew would persuade her to go along with my awful plan. "But Lil," I said, looking as pitiful as I could possibly manage. "I don't want to have to deal with Sirius on my own..."

She relented almost immediately, as reluctant as it may have been, and before long we were headed down to the pitch, textbooks in hand, and she was complaining the whole way that she should have put on a thicker scarf.

In truth, I hadn't thought too much about Sirius in the past week. Between catching up on my schoolwork and spending most evenings studying with Lucas, I'd only really seen him in classes, and as he was fighting with James he didn't speak much or acknowledge anyone's presence but his own. It had been easy to set everything that had happened at Halloween out of my mind for the time being, focusing instead on the matters at hand. But I hadn't been lying when I told Lily that I was dreading having to spend time near him. Seeing him made me feel sick to my stomach, reminiscent of the bad mix of alcohol and truth-serum that had led to this situation in the first place.

He wasn't on the field yet when Lily and I arrived. Instead, we were met by James screaming bloody murder at the captain of the Ravenclaw team.

"We have the field reserved every Saturday at this time!" He was yelling when we got there. "Go ask McGonagall, she'll tell you. Or Hooch. Go ask anyone!"

"Look, I'm sorry, man," Hal Summers, the captain, answered calmly, holding up his hands defensively. "Hooch told me yesterday we could have it now because she needed it for a class during our normal practice time."

"Bullshit," James spat.

"We'd give you the field, but that's not exactly fair seeing as we've got a match coming up and only one of my players is staying over hols."

"Not fair? It's not fair that you get our field when we've had it reserved since September!"

"Yeah, that's bullshit!" Benjy chimed in from a few steps behind James. The other players — on both sides — looked mostly exhausted, like they were almost wishing the other side would win so they could just go back to sleep already.

"Here's an idea," Lucas said, stepping forward between James and Hal, restraining a bludger in his hands. "Why don't you guys use that half of the field and we'll use this half? It's not ideal, but it's better than wasting our time fighting about it."

Hal looked at Lucas and raised an eyebrow. "Uh, sure," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I suppose that could work."

James glared between the two of them for a minute, and then looked back at his team. After a long, tense moment, he finally spoke:

"And how do I know that you all aren't going to watch our practice to pick up on our strategies?"

Hal rolled his eyes. "We saw enough of your 'strategies' at the Slytherin match. Well, what little you have of them."

James' face turned bright red at the comment. He looked as if he was about to hex Hal into the hospital wing.

"Our strategies our fine," a voice behind me interrupted, "and James alone is twice the athlete of your entire team put together."

My stomach dropped as I turned around to see Sirius standing behind me, his broom slung over one shoulder, a quaffle in his hand.

"Drop the bullshit, Summers," he continued. "Field is ours, I have a note from McGonagall."

"And we have a note from Hooch," one of the younger Ravenclaw players said, holding up an official-looking piece of paper.

"Then we'll cast a barrier at the midfield line so we can each use half the field," Sirius sighed, pulling his wand out.

Both captains groaned in reluctant agreement, and Sirius wordlessly conjured an opaque barrier between the two halves of the field before putting his wand away and walking over to James.

"Thanks for that, man," James said quietly.

"Anything for my best mate," Sirius responded, looking up at him apologetically. James smiled, shook his head, and pulled Sirius into a quick hug.

"Can you stop staring so we can sit down now?" Lily asked from behind me, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the stands.

We sat right in the center of the stands, where we could see both the Gryffindor team and the Ravenclaw team on either side of the barrier, and as soon as we were seated, James flew by, hovering a few feet in front of us.

"You gonna spy on them for me, Moony?" He asked, smiling at me and winking. Behind me, I swear I heard Lily squeak as she hid her face in her large Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.

"That's not fair, is it, Prongs?" I responded, laughing. "I'm just interested to see you guys matched up against the tactical geniuses over here."

He laughed as well and flew back to the pitch, circling his players up to run them through a couple of drills.

I didn't really watch either team's practice. A minute in, Lily tapped my shoulder with a question about werewolves for her essay, and we got started talking about the assignment, and before I knew it half an hour had passed and someone was tapping me on the shoulder from behind.

I turned around to see Lucas on his broom, hovering with his face level to mine.

"Enjoying practice?" He asked, smiling.

"Haven't exactly been paying attention," I answered, pulling my scarf tighter against the wind.

"We just finished up," he said, and then offered me a hand. "Want a ride back up to the castle?"

I shook my head. "I'm kind of terrified of flying. Just ask James, he's been trying to get me on a broom since first year."

He laughed, grabbing my hand anyway. "Come on, it will be fun. I won't let you fall."

Lily looked at me, one eyebrow raised.

"Not that I don't trust you, Lucas, but really, I'm not good with heights..."

From the Gryffindor side of the quidditch pitch, someone yelled, "Fuck!"

I turned to see what was going on. Benjy had fallen to the ground and was hopping on one leg, rubbing the other, yelling, "Why don't you watch where you're flying, Black? You could have killed me!" while Sirius was speeding quickly towards the other end of the field.

I bit my lip and looked up at Lucas.

"Okay," I told him. "But if you drop me, Lily will curse you to pieces."

"I will," she affirmed, turning back to her books.

I stood up, and he grabbed my arm, steadying me to climb onto the broom. I struggled to balance my weight evenly on either side of the broom, the distance from the ground already making me feel dizzy, but he grabbed my hand and wrapped it around his waist.

"Hold on tight," he said, smiling back at me.

The second he started to fly, I almost vomited everywhere.

Flying felt like the ultimate form of not being in control. My stomach dropped as the broom rose and as it fell, as it swerved around the stands and towards the castle, and by the time he lowered it to the ground on the steps to the castle, I could barely keep my balance on my own two feet.

He smiled, watching me, grabbing my arm to make sure I didn't fall over, and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off as someone snathed my arm out of his grip.

I looked up to see Sirius, glaring, his teeth bared, his hand wrapped tight around my arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" he snarled to Lucas.

Lucas held up his hands in surrender and replied calmly, "I was just giving him a ride to the castle."

"Don't you know he hates flying?" Sirius practically shouted.

Lucas shrugged. "I wouldn't have done it if he'd said no," he said, and then turned to me. "I'll see you later tonight to study for Potions?"

I nodded as he flew off, still trying to comprehend the situation, but before I could manage to gather my wits, Sirius was dragging me into the castle by my arm, heading up the stairs to the seventh floor.

I tried to shake him off.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't answer, just let go of my arm and began to pace in front of the wall until a door appeared. He grabbed me again and dragged me through the door into the Room of Requirement which, to my shock, was completely empty.

No, I realized after a few seconds. Completely empty except for a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room.

I started to ask what was going on, but he cut me off, pressing his lips to mine roughly, his hand tangling in my hair.

Now, there is a peculiar, yet distinctive type of self-loathing that only comes from kissing someone who is only kissing you to be kissing, not because he wants to see the small smile in the corner of your lips every time he pulls away or because he likes the way you blush all the way from your collar to your earlobes when he touches you. It's a sick-to-your-stomach feelings that tastes of bile and bitter retribution worse than you can imagine, mingled with the knowledge that you will keep kissing him in the hopes that someday enough kissing will make him realize that it is you, and not the kissing, that is the best part.

That was how Sirius Black made me feel, there under the mistletoe.

I kissed him back — of course I did — but I could barely feel the weight of his lips pressing against mine behind the anger throbbing in my mind. It was an anger I couldn't place: anger at him for doing this to me, anger at myself for reciprocating. But an anger that wasn't quite enough to make me pull away, wasn't quite enough to make me stop kissing him until he pulled away, his eyes dark and predatory, and turned and walked away.

I stood there under the mistletoe for a long time, I'm not sure how long, watching the door where he'd left and feeling nothing but the need to vomit. Or the need to kiss him again.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: WOW it's been a long time! Sorry for the delays, as per always, tons of schoolwork and other life things but hopefully you can forgive the wait because there are many, many things to come in this story! As always, thank you so much for reading, and don't forget to review! Those reviews are what keeps us motivated to write more! You guys are fantastic.**

**- M**

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><p>"And another thing," James huffed, running his hands through his hair with more vigor than normal as we walked down the hall. "Summers has the nerve to talk about <em>our <em>strategy when Ravenclaw hasn't won a match against Gryffindor for the past twenty-five games — "

"Wow, you've counted?" I interrupted, smirking.

" — and half of the team doesn't know a quaffle from a bludger," he continued without stopping. "It's a complete load of old bollocks."

I tried to stifle a laugh, but could barely contain my smile. He turned and looked at me, his face slightly falling.

"I'm being thick, aren't I?" He mumbled, running his hands through his hair again, looking down dejectedly.

"James, you can't let him get to you!" I smiled, putting my hand on his shoulder. Instantly, his head turned to look at my hand, the tips of his ears turning red. Immediately, I drew back, awkwardly smoothing my skirt while I felt my own face begin to redden. Quickly, I continued. "I mean — he's trying to rile you up. Make you second-guess yourself. Everyone knows that you alone are more talented than his entire team put together — "

James' face turned a beet red, matching his ears. I winced, realizing that my babbling wasn't making our conversation any less awkward.

"I — er — what I'm trying to say is, no one can dispute that Gryffindor has talent. That's — you'd have to be mad to think that. But what Ravenclaws rely on is their strategic ability. He's trying to make you think that they can outwit you, out-strategize you. If you begin to believe that, your entire team will begin to second-guess itself and that makes you much less of a threat."

There was a pause, while James looked ahead contemplatively. Then he turned to me, a huge grin on his face, and with an unmistakable note of pride in his voice, asked, "You really think I'm more talented than the entire Ravenclaw team?"

I rolled my eyes, and elbowed him in the side. "Don't be a prat. I only meant — "

Smiling, James began to whistle, his pace slowing as he began to round the corner.

"Wait, where are you going? I thought you were heading back to the common room? It's nearly midnight." I called after him as we began to go off in separate directions.

"Why, will you miss me?" He called back before turning and running down the hallway. "I've just got to check on some things, I'll be back in a bit. Don't forget, we've got rounds tomorrow night!"

I wasn't aware of how broadly I was smiling until I pushed open the entrance to the common room and felt my face fall. Remus sat on one of the armchairs, his legs pulled around his chest, and he looked straight ahead, a troubled expression on his face. He turned his face towards me, and attempted a smile, but it was clearly half-hearted and forced.

"Hi there," I said cautiously, not wanting to scare him off. "What's going on?"

He shrugged, attempting to appear casual. "A bit of the same, really. Essays, exams... I haven't felt quite well lately."

"Queasy from riding broomsticks, perhaps?" I snarked, biting back a smile. He paled, and looked at me for a moment, before forcing a short laugh.

"No, I...just need a bit of chocolate, that's all," he sighed, lying back in the chair. I looked at him for a moment. His hair was stuck up at the ends, like his head had been resting against the chair for hours on end, though his eyes had dark circles beneath them (a look that was, unfortunately, becoming quite common for Remus.) He looked at me, bracing himself for my questions, but I hesitated. He looked tired, and honestly, I was tired too. I was tired of asking him questions, tired of trying to get him to see how important it was that he and Sirius talked to each other, tired of seeing him miserable and tired. So, without a word, I turned and walked up the stairs to the common room, collapsed on my bed, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

By the time I awoke to someone shaking me, dawn had already begun to peek out from beneath my window. Immediately, I jumped up for bed, thinking that I had overslept and that Marlene was telling me that I had missed my Transfiguration exam review class. However, when I looked around to see that everyone else in the room was still soundly asleep, and that Marlene herself was standing in front of me in her Quidditch uniform, I realized that it was only Sunday.

"What's — huh?" I croaked, my voice still groggy. I rubbed my eyes a few times, and squinted. "What time is it?"

"It's 8 o'clock," she replied with an apologetic grimace. "I'm so sorry, Lily, I didn't want to wake you, but you slept through post yesterday, and I wanted to make sure that I gave you a letter that you received before I left for Quidditch practice."

"Er...okay. Thanks," I said thickly, taking the letter as she held it out to me. With a quick wave, she bolted out of the door, broomstick in hand, leaving me to stare blankly at the envelope in front of me. It took me a moment to recognize the handwriting, but when I did, I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was Alice!

Quickly, I ripped open the envelope and returned to my bed, opening up my curtains to let a bit more of the sun shine through. I yanked the letter from the envelope and began to read hungrily.

_Dear Lily,_

_Thank you so much for all of your letters. I must admit, they've been the highlight of my days. I'm so sorry that I haven't been able to write you back, but we've heard of owls being intercepted left and right these days (amazing, isn't it, that even our letters aren't secure anymore?) and I didn't want to compromise anyone's safety. For that reason, I actually was accompanied to a "post office" of sorts about 50 miles from where we're staying, and had to use one of their owls. Now, there's an enchantment on this letter that keeps it from being opened by anyone but the person to whom it is addressed, but once it's opened, anyone can see it, so I must ask you to please burn this letter as soon as you've finished reading it. I tell you, Lily, it's absolutely mad. But, I'd like to inform you of what's been going on here — at least, I'd like to inform you as much as I can._

_Dumbledore was actually the one who told us about David's death. Somehow, he had found out before the _Prophet_ or even three-quarters of the ministry. When he told us, he immediately suggested that, in the interest of our own safety, and the safety of our extended family and friends, we should go into hiding immediately. So, of course, we listened._

_I've been completing my coursework from home, with the assistance from Dumbledore, who has been sending me my reading and assignments for each week at every Sunday. While my parents will remain in hiding, Dumbledore has agreed that it is safe for me to return to Hogwarts after Christmas hols, so I will be coming back very soon! I can't wait to see you, Lily — this has really alll been a nightmare._

_I wish I could write more, but I'm afraid that it will have to wait until we can talk in person. I was warned that it may not be long before a counterspell is figured out to open letters like this, and I don't want to risk any harm._

_Hang in there, Lily. If I can do it, I know that you can, too._

_All my love,_  
><em>Alice<em>

_PS- If you'd like to write me back, give your letter to Dumbledore, and he will deliver it with my schoolwork on the next Sunday. It's much safer that way, since it will never leave his sights._

I held the letter in front of my face, unblinking for a few moments. I felt relieved — relieved that Alice was alright, and that I would be seeing her soon, although the unmistakable tone of danger in her letter was disconcerting. Still, I tried not to worry too much about it: if Dumbledore was looking out for them, I felt sure that they would all be alright.

I read over the letter once more, just to make sure that all of the details had soaked into my memory. While the letter wasn't long, just hearing from Alice gave me a sense of reassurance and renewed positivity, and I wanted to make sure that I hadn't missed any important detail, and that I wasn't missing any subtext.

Still rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I tip-toed across our dormitory and down the spiral staircase, to the common room. I figured it would be more practical to burn the letter in our larger fireplace than trying to conjure up some fire with my wand — particularly in light of last year, when Marlene caught her curtains on fire trying to boil some water for tea.

When my foot touched the bottom step of the staircase, there was a loud creak, and I immediately realized that I was not the only person in the common room. Sirius, who appeared to have been sleeping on the couch, jolted up immediately, his hair looking nearly as untidy as James'.

"Oh," He said, almost in a monotone. "It's you. Hey, Evans."

"Hi," I replied, striding over to the fireplace before tossing in Alice's letter.

He raised his eyebrow in suspicion. "What was that?"

"A letter," I replied curtly. "What are you doing down here?"

"Sleeping," he answered, gesturing towards the blanket now wrapped around his waist.

"You do realize," I started, sitting in an armchair next to him, "That you have your very own bed, just up those stairs there?"

"What _would_I do without your brilliance, Evans?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

I rolled my eyes and leaned my elbow on the armrest of the chair. The two of us sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke in a low, quiet voice.

"I know you think I'm a huge prat," He spoke with an eerie calmness in his voice. He glanced over at me, assumably to see if I would protest — but I didn't. He continued. "But you have no idea about anything, Evans, so spare me your judgement."

"I'm not judging you, Sirius," I replied softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I don't understand what the hell you're doing, and I don't think you do either. You and Remus have made a bloody mess of something that doesn't need to be. But, I'm not going to tell either of you what to do. You're both intelligent, and even if neither of you wants to admit it, you're both good people."

Sirius stared at me, his jaw slightly unhinged, his eyebrows raised into a look of pure astonishment. After a moment, I rose slowly from the chair and turned to walk back towards the staircase.

"Evans?" He called after me. I paused, and without turning around called back, "Yes?"

"Maybe you ought to take your own advice."

I swirled around to face him. "What do you mean?"

He smirked. "You'll figure it out. You have rounds tonight with Prongs, right?"

My eyebrows knit together. "Yeah, why?"

His smirk grew wider. "No reason. Have fun."

Confused but for some reason embarrassed, I turned back towards the staircase and ran back up to my room to get some sleep before breakfast.

The rest of the day played out somewhat unremarkably, although I did notice that Sirius and Remus were now able to sit at the same table in the Great Hall without one of them making an excuse or feigning ill. In fact, it almost seemed like they were beginning to make progress, when Sirius asked Remus at dinner if he could please pass the salt, and Remus soundlessly complied.

However, the progress appeared to be short lived. After dinner, Remus and I went upstairs to the library to try to get some work done before class the next morning. Both of us were pouring over our Potions textbooks when a conversation at the table next to us became loud enough to hear clearly.

"...it was just so romantic, Anna! There were flowers and a fireplace, and the most delicate sprig of mistletoe."

I glanced over and saw three Hufflepuff girls, who I knew to be sixth years, blatantly ignoring their books for a more interesting conversation. Somewhat annoyed at the distraction, I stared pointedly at my book, hoping to be able to focus on a few somewhat complicated Potions theorem.

"You're just so _lucky_," My ears perked up as another girl at the table whispered excitedly. "I can't believe you got with Sirius Black!"

I froze mid-sentence, and without moving my head, lifted my eyes to glance at Remus. He froze as well, except for a protruding vein in his neck which I noticed had started throbbing. He blinked a few times, and then looked back at his book. A few seconds passed before he collected up his books and mumbled something about going back to his room to finish studying.  
>I found studying in the library to be somewhat impossible as the table next to me continued to discuss, in intimate detail, things such as how deep Sirius' eyes were, how perfectly tousled his hair remained at all times, how Sirius Black's jawline was so perfectly curved that, aerodynamically, it allowed him to become an extremely masterful kisser (that last bit wasn't actually said, but you get the idea.)<p>

So, instead of focusing intently on my Potions work, as I had intended, I sort of just stared into space for a few moments. It dawned on me that there was just days until I would be home for Christmas holiday, and even worse, Petunia's wedding. I groaned internally. Honestly, there were few things worse that I could imagine than seeing your estranged sister marry herself off to a total tosser. Even the one detention I had, cleaning the entirety of the Great Hall without magic, seemed gleefully cheery in comparison.

"Ready to go, then?" A familiar voice jarred me, nearly making me jump out of my seat. I raised my eyes and saw James standing there, clipboard in hand, Head Boy badge shining on his chest, clearly prepared to go on rounds. I looked down — I was wearing some old jeans, a t-shirt of a Muggle band my dad saw in concert, and my trainers. To be plain, I was hardly the pinnacle of professionalism.

"Er...not really," I closed my Potions book reluctantly. "Don't we have twenty minutes or something?"

"No...we have about three," James replied, staring at me with a strange expression on his face.

"What?" I asked defensively. I looked down at my clothes, and then back up. "I know, I look awful."

"What? No — you don't, I — you just seem upset about something, that's all," James mumbled, reaching a hand up to his hair in his usual way.

"Oh. Well, I'm not. I mean...I am, but we really don't have time, we should go on rounds." I stammered, shoving my books into my bag.

"Alright, let's go," James replied, starting towards the door.

"No, I should change. I can't go on rounds looking like this," I gestured towards my clothes, which were very blatantly not within the Prefects' dress code.

James shrugged, "You're fine. Here, I'll just take off these — " He took off his robes, his pin, and undid his tie, opening the top few buttons. " — and we're set, yeah?"

I stared at him and thought about protesting, but I was tired, and it was nearly Christmas hols. Surely McGonagall wouldn't mind if we dressed a bit laxly, just this once? Against my better judgement, I agreed, and we set off towards the first hallway to do rounds.

"So, what's got you down, Lily?" James asked, peeking his head into the first classroom we saw to make sure it was empty.

"What? Oh. No, it's — it's stupid," I replied, shaking my head, checking off the first classroom on our clipboard.

"I doubt that," he said sincerely, poking his head into the next classroom. "But if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine too."

There was silence for a moment before I blurted out, "It's my sister. She — well she and I aren't exactly...and I wish we were but she just really hates me and I just wish — she's marrying this complete arse just because...I don't even know why. And now I'm going to have to watch her marry this awful man and I just want her to be happy but she absolutely _hates_me, James, and I just wish none of this was happening."

Immediately, I felt his arm around my shoulders, and I breathed in deeply. Instinctively, I leaned my head onto his shoulder, and instantly felt his arms around me, pulling me closer, his head resting gently on top of mine.

"Lily, that's not stupid at all. I'm really, really sorry. Although...I doubt your sister really hates you."

I lifted my head, pulling back a bit. "You've never met her, James. How would you even know?"

"Because," He replied with a shrug, "No one could ever hate you, Lily."

For some reason, at once, I felt very happy and very sad. But I managed a small smile, and leaned back against his shoulder. "That's really sweet, James. But you don't know Petunia like I do." I took another deep breath and exhaled. "It's just rubbish, is all. And it's going to be so difficult. My parents are so happy and excited, or at least they're pretending to be. I'm going to have to be pretending, too, I suppose. And that's just so much to take on alone."

Without missing a beat, James spoke. "I'll go with you."

Silence washed over us for just a moment, and then I pulled back to look at him. "You'll — you'll what?"

"I'll go with you to your sister's wedding," He replied. "If — if you want me to, that is. I mean, if you need — or want — some moral support I would be glad — I mean I'd be there for you — "

I cut him off with a tight embrace, and held onto him, breathing in his familiar scent as I felt his fingers trace softly and slowly down my back. I realized then how seriously and truly I had misjudged James Potter for most of my life. And at that moment, there was not a person I could imagine appreciating more.

When we pulled apart, he was smiling broadly, and said, "So it's settled, then. I'll go with you to your sister's wedding?"

And before I had time to think about the words coming out of my mouth, I responded, "It's a date."


	30. Chapter 30

6

Never had I been so miserable to see Lily leave for the holiday.

"It's just two weeks," she said, a sad smile on her face as I saw her and James off in the Great Hall that morning. "I'll be back before you know it. I'll write you every day if I must."

Yes, I thought. And all I have to do for that two weeks is avoid Sirius, catch up on nearly a month's worth of homework I had been neglecting, and manage to survive yet another full moon. It will be just jolly, really. A wonderful holiday indeed.

But I didn't say anything, not with her standing there, holding James' hand and finally, for the first time in weeks, looking positively excited about something. She'd looked so tired, so stressed recently, and I knew she didn't need the nonsense in my life piling on top of that. Instead I just nodded and tried to smile back, sighing out a pathetic excuse for a, "Yeah, of course. Happy Christmas, and enjoy the wedding."

The common room was decidedly empty, and with Frank, James, and Peter gone so was our room. I thought perhaps I'd take a nap and try to catch up on all the sleep I'd been missing, but I didn't want to risk having to deal with Sirius when I woke up, so instead I grabbed my bag and filled it with as many books as I could, hoping I could camp out in the library until at least most of my work was finished. There were a few hundred pages of reading for Transfiguration, twice that for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and more than a few Arithmancy problem sets. And that was without addressing the issue of Potions — Severus and I still hadn't managed to get over our differences for long enough to make a passable Potion. It was almost as if he was willing to sacrifice his grade just to lower mine. Never before had I managed to get so behind in school work, not even when the full moons were worse and I had to take weeks off from class at a time.

Pull yourself together, Remus, I kept telling myself, but it didn't seem to be working.

The library was empty, too, when I got there. The entire school, really, was mercifully empty. No giggling Hufflepuff girls or scowling Slytherins to deal with. I'd wanted to go home — mum was still sick and I hadn't seen them since July, but the moon was full on Christmas Eve and I didn't want to ruin dad's favorite holiday by making him lock me up in the basement — but as long as I managed to stay away from Sirius, the two weeks here wouldn't be so bad, at least.

I took a seat in the back corner, at a table hidden out of sight behind a bookshelf, knowing Sirius would never venture far enough into the library to accidentally stumble across me, and pulled out my books, stacking them around myself to form a sort of barrier as I set out to read. I figured maybe if I didn't stop until I was finished, I could be done before Christmas.

"You weren't at breakfast," a familiar voice said quietly a few minutes later from the other side of the table.

"Wasn't hungry," I sighed, closing my Transfiguration book. It seemed I wouldn't be getting any work done.

"Well, you missed the post. Poor little owl didn't know what to do. He was very eager to deliver this letter. Tried to give it to Black when he realized you weren't there."

Lucas held out the envelope — small, stained on one corner with coffee — and smiled.

"I thought I'd bring it to you, in case it was important. I was coming up here anyway to work, figured this was as good a place to look as any."

He ran a hand through his dark hair, looking at me for a second — a sort of strange look I couldn't read.

"You want to sit down?" I asked, gesturing to the seat across from me. "I've got some Arithmancy to work on, maybe you'll make it a less painful ordeal."

"Yeah," he grinned. "Thanks."

He started to take some of his books out of his bag, and I turned my attention back to the envelope, tearing it open carefully. As Lily hadn't even left yet, I really hadn't been expecting post at all.

The short letter was in my mum's shaky script, and I immediately felt guilty.

_Remus,_

_Hope you have a lovely, relaxing holiday. We miss you so much! Mrs. Marwick says hello and Happy Christmas — Elisa's been asking after you! _

_I know it's too difficult for you to come home this year, but do know that if you change your mind, we're always happy to have you around, no matter what time of month. Your father will cope if you change your mind, I'm sure. And you know I'm always eager to see you, especially during the holiday season._

_Do write back soon, your father and I look forward to hearing from you._

_All my love,_

_Mum_

She always managed to make me feel guilty, even when she was trying to make me feel better. The thought of her and dad having Christmas alone — or, maybe, with our widowed neighbor Mrs. Marwick and her daughter — was enough to make me want to cry for missing them. It wasn't often that I found myself lamenting the inevitable side-effects of my condition, but sometimes when everything else had gone to shit and I felt as if I was moping about everything in my life, I felt I might as well mope about that as well.

"Well, any breaking news?" Lucas asked from across the table, pulling me back into the moment. I looked up at him — he looked tired, too, far from the grinning boy who had lifted me onto his broomstick in the middle of quidditch practice before. His jumper was frayed and his dark hair tousled, not intentionally, like Sirius' always was, but really and truly sleep-mussed like he hadn't had time to comb it, and I realized maybe it was everyone who was tired, maybe it wasn't just me who was going through a lot.

"Just my mum," I said, sticking the letter in between the pages of my Transfiguration book as I reopened it, trying to find the page I had been on. "She worries."

"What, with you not going home for the holiday? I can't imagine why. She's probably scared you're working yourself to death."

"I could say the same for you," I said, gesturing at his hair, which he ran his hand through again, trying in vain to get it to lie flat.

"I've not got anyone worrying about me working myself to death, don't worry," he said, his smile faltering slightly as he reached down to pull a book out of his bag.

"I wouldn't say that," I shrugged. "I'd be awfully disappointed if you worked yourself to death."

He looked up at me, confused. "You would?" His expression was soft, his lips parted slightly, and his tongue ran across them like a nervous tick as he watched me, waiting to see if my response would be affirmative.

Well I'd surely be at a loss when it came to Arithmancy without you, I wanted to say — I intended to say — but it felt false. Forcibly casual, like something I'd say to Sirius in a situation like this. An ingenuous retort to deflect any indication of true affection. But the way he was looking at me made me feel, for a second, like there was nothing to hide. Like I could say anything. I wasn't sure I'd ever felt that feeling before.

And with that feeling, it seemed, came the sudden urge to lean across the table and kiss those parted lips, and for almost the first time I didn't bother mustering the energy to resist that urge.

Had it not been for the table between us, I'm not sure I would have stopped.

He looked surprised when I finally pulled away, but not unhappy. His eyes brightened a touch and the corners of his mouth turned up, and before I knew it he was striding around the table to meet me, one hand wrapping around my waist as he returned the kiss, firm and slow and sure.

Kissing Lucas was so vastly different from kissing Sirius that it nearly blindsided me. Sirius was all teeth and tongue, pent up aggression bursting out in a rush of sheer physical need, but Lucas was soft lips and hesitant smiles between breaths, his hand resting steady against my hip when Sirius' would have been tugging my hair as hard as he could. It took that feeling of self-loathing in my stomach and turned it into something warm, something I couldn't really identify.

Perhaps, I thought, spending the holiday alone in the castle wouldn't be quite so lonely.

And then someone coughed.

I didn't want to pull away, and a small part of me kept telling me that if I didn't look, no one would be there, but a low, raw voice pulled me out of it.

"Well, I was going to apologise, but it seems you're a bit preoccupied at the moment, Moony."

I couldn't look at him.

Lucas, however, could, and he pulled away awkwardly, looking between us for a second like a child looking between his fighting parents, like he'd done something wrong, and then he was scrambling to grab his books up off the table, quietly saying, "I'll see you later, Remus" as he turned to go.

I opened my mouth to call out — I wasn't sure to which of them — but my voice caught in my throat, and instead I settled for clenching my jaw and slumping back down into my chair.

"You've made a bloody mess of things, haven't you, Remus?" I mumbled to myself.

"Can say that again."

I hadn't realized he was still behind me, but even still I resisted the urge to turn and look. "I'm right brilliant at that, yeah?"

It was only then that he turned away, walking out of the library.

Six days passed without my running into either of them. I stayed out of the common room, out of the Great Hall, out of the hallways in general when I could. I avoided the library during the day, and made my way into the Shrieking Shack when there was no where else to go.

I couldn't tell anymore if it was depression or fatigue creeping in on me as the full moon approached, but Professor McGonagall seemed to have her own ideas the morning of Christmas Eve.

"You're coming to a meal, Mister Lupin, and that is final," her stern voice said beside me, waking me from a fitful sleep in one of the library armchairs.

"What?" I think I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and attempting to sit up and look around to find her.

"You haven't been at a meal since the holidays started, and while I don't mean to use this card on you, the full moon is tonight and I've been reliably informed that it's much more tolerable on a full stomach."

She hoisted my up and out of the armchair by the back of my sweater and pushed me forward.

"Come on, quick as you like."

Still disoriented from sleep, I didn't have much choice but to follow as she pushed me along the hallway and down the stairs to the Great Hall and into one of the fifteen seats surrounding the table in the middle of the hall. Lucas gave me a small smile from across the table and waved, passing me a plate of toast, but Sirius was nowhere to be found.

I tried to stomach a few bites with little success, and I managed to spill juice all down my front as the post came in and a scruffy-looking owl dropped a large, rather pointy-edged parcel straight into my head, the letter attached falling into my eggs. But Lily's handwriting on the parchment was a welcome relief, and things seemed just a tiny bit brighter as I opened the envelope and read her letter.

_Dear Remus,_

_How is your holiday going so far? Mine's been mad, I have to admit, at least so far. Petunia's wedding is in just a few days, and my house has been an absolute mess. That's probably not the best choice of words, considering that it's actually spotless, but, you get the idea. People running around everywhere, orders of flowers and stationery and other wedding-type trinkets littering the halls, and of course, there's the fact that I don't believe James has ever stayed in a non-magical household before, and is finding it incredibly difficult to acclimate himself._

_I have to say, I know that you weren't looking forward to staying at Hogwarts over hols but I do hope that you're finding some time to enjoy yourself. Studying is important, but we've got months until NEWTs and you'll be as well prepared as anyone. Particularly since the number of students staying over break is quite small, I reckon you'll have plenty of time to have a long conversation with one of your fellow students, should you so choose..._

_Anyway, I know it's early, but I've enclosed your Christmas present in the package attached to this letter. I picked it up in a Muggle bookshop a few days ago — it's one of my absolute favorites, and I thought you might enjoy it as well._

_Wishing you all the very best, and hoping to hear from you soon!_

_Love from,_

_Lily_

The book she mentioned must have been the parcel the owl had dropped onto my head when it arrived, and I picked it up with a groan, tossing it into my bag to open later. But Professor McGonagall was looking at me from over the tops of her glasses as if to say, "eat, Mister Lupin," and so I turned my attention back to my plate, grimly attempting another forkful of eggs.

"Remus!" Lucas called out, jogging to catch up with me as I hurried out of the Hall after finally eating enough to satisfy McGonagall. "Where have you been, I've been looking for you for days?"

I stopped and turned back to him, forcing an apologetic smile onto my face. "I've been feeling a bit under the weather. Been trying to sleep it off. Sorry."

I knew the dark circles under my eyes would support my alibi, and this close to the full moon I was sure of the familiar look of my sickly pale skin, just hours away from transforming. I hoped it was enough that he would buy it.

"Oh God, yeah, of course, don't apologise. I get it. You should get some rest, really."

I nodded, gesturing in the general direction of Gryffindor tower, where I hadn't been intending to head.

"I'll see you later, then?" he asked, smiling.

"Yeah, of course."

I had little choice now but to head for the tower, but I figured at least I could drop off my books and maybe take a short nap before heading to the Shrieking Shack for my transformation. It was the middle of the afternoon, there was no way Sirius would be there, and I needed the sleep more than anything else.

But, of course, Sirius was there, sitting on the edge of his bed and staring at something in his hands, though I wasn't sure what. But I was already there, so I kept my head down, pulling the curtains around my bed as a barrier between us, and tried to rest for a while.

The walk down to the whomping willow, across the cold, dark grounds just after a forced dinner, was lonelier than I had ever remembered it. Even when I was a first year, tiny and ashamed and practically friendless, I didn't remember it being this bad.

But I felt almost like I deserve the solitude of the Shack, creaking around me as I pulled out a pile of chains from one of the broken desk drawers. If I was going to be alone, I needed to take the proper precautions, and while the chains bit into my dry skin like fangs, if I closed my eyes hard enough I could push away almost all feeling.

The moon crept through the window with a shudder and I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth and I began to feel my skin split. The beginning of the transformation, just before I lost consciousness, was always the most unpleasant part.

But something soft nudged my leg hesitantly, and as I looked down in the final few seconds before the transformation took hold, I saw a large black dog staring up at my through warm eyes.


	31. Chapter 31

I hadn't expected James to come home with me over Christmas holiday. I mean, of course, I'd invited him to the wedding, and I'm not sure what I did expect — that he would just apparate at my house the day of without explanation, not knowing any of my family? Or worse, that he would try to drive? Regardless, when I finished up my last midterm exam (in Arithmancy, to be specific), I was fairly shocked to see James Potter waiting for me outside the door, suitcase in hand, ready to take the train back to King's Cross with me.

"I — er — I haven't even packed yet...I was going to take the 1 o'clock train," I muttered lamely, looking pointedly down at the suitcase in James' hand. He was grinning broadly.

"That's fine! I don't mind waiting!" He was exceptionally cheery, which only made me a little more uneasy.

I smiled slightly. "Okay."

James was grinning broadly the entire time I was packing up my clothes, though I wasn't quite sure why. I assumed that it must have been relief for exams to be done, for Christmas hols to start, but he just kept looking at me so intently that it made my stomach flutter in an unusual way and made my face flush under his gaze. When I finished packing up my clothes and we finally made our way to the Great Hall to say goodbye to our friends, James was nearly skipping down the hall, his arm linked in mine. I laughed as he bounced down the hallway, his elbow intertwined with mine. Eventually he resumed walking at a normal pace, although our arms remained linked, and eventually slid down very naturally into holding hands.

I immediately blushed at the contact of his hand against mine and my stomach churned in a pleasant sort of way, filling my whole body with a dull heat that felt both uncomfortable and nice at the same time. I couldn't help it — my grin became as broad as James'.

When we entered the Great Hall and found Remus, I imagine we must have looked like pretty big fools, standing there, holding hands, giant grins plastered across our faces. It didn't help that Remus looked particularly sullen, and when I gave him a hug goodbye, I noticed that he held me tighter than normal, as though he was afraid what would happen when James and I left.

Still, by the time we got to the train, I was actually really looking forward to returning home. Aside from everything going on with Petunia, the fear of the constant threats made against Muggles and Muggleborns, and the fact that I would be housing James Potter for a week (something which I was both excited and terrified for), I would finally be able to rest for a little while. Away from the castle, I would be able to read a bit, watch some television with my dad, go to the grocery store — things that made me feel completely and utterly normal. It was my favorite part of Christmas hols: being able to get away from being a witch for a couple of weeks and just spend time with my parents.

As soon as James and I got off the train though, I knew this holiday would be decidedly not relaxed. My parents and Petunia stood waiting for me at King's Cross, and as soon as they saw me, I realized that they hadn't yet gotten my letter that James would be coming. My parents looked both shocked and intrigued (my mother a bit more excited than my father, who eyed James somewhat suspiciously), and Petunia looked absolutely stunned, and then supremely annoyed.

"Bugger," I muttered as we walked towards my parents, still out of earshot.

"What?" James asked, trying to maintain a look of composure.

"They didn't know you were coming," I replied, a smile plastered to my face as we came closer to my parents.

James looked at me, alarmed. "Wait, what-?"

"Lily!" My mother flung her arms around me, and pulled me into a tight embrace. "It's so great so see you!" When she pulled back from the hug, she looked towards James with a questioning look, but before she could say anything, I interjected.

"Mum, Dad — this is James Potter. You remember, he —"

"Of course! James," My father stepped forward, his look of suspicion fading into a warm smile, as he pulled James into a big hug. James, looking somewhat taken aback but relieved, awkwardly patted him on the back a few times. My father continued talking as he hugged James. "You and your parents took care of our Lily over the summer. We can't express how nice it is, knowing that Lily's got friends looking out for her like that. I hope you're staying with us, we'd love to repay the favor."

James looked at my dad, absolutely beaming. "That's very kind of you, Mr. Evans. Actually, Lily did ask me...well, she said she wrote you..."

"Yes," I interjected, speaking now to both of my parents. "You must not have gotten it but, I sent you a letter about how I asked James to...well, I invited him..."

"Lily asked me to be her plus one to Petunia's wedding," James offered. I shot him a grateful look — this whole situation was getting increasingly stranger, and I wasn't particularly at my most eloquent.

James smiled and stuck his hand out towards Petunia, who eyed it coldly. "Nice to meet you, I'm James." Petunia looked at his hand, and then back to his face, then back to his hand before she wordlessly shook his hand loosely, with just her fingers. Despite her look of annoyance and disgust, James continued to smile, before shaking my mother's hand as well.

The car ride home was strange, yet almost exactly as it could be expected. My parents weren't anticipating the space needed for both me and James, and all of our stuff, so I sat squished between James and Petunia in the backseat of the car. On one side of me, James explained animatedly to my parents the logistics of Quidditch:

"But if the Golden Switch — "

"Snitch," I corrected.

"If the Golden Snitch ends the game and is worth — what's that? 150 points? Then wouldn't whoever caught it win the game?" My dad scratched his chin in contemplation.

"Not exactly," James replied. "Well, sometimes it does wind up like that. But usually the games go on for long enough that the 150 points isn't enough to necessarily win the game. And the Seekers are so concentrated on finding the snitch and catching it that they can't keep up with what's going on. So, it's the job of the Chasers to score enough goals that, when the Seekers do catch the snitch and end the game, it'll be enough to win the game."

"Fascinating," my dad breathed, clearly intrigued by this strange sport.

To my left Petunia, who had been fiercely silent for the ride thus far, mumbled, "Sounds like a pretty stupid game to me." James, fortunately, did not hear her.

I was both impressed and unsurprised at how quickly James won over my parents. By the time our car pulled into my driveway, my mom was already discussing how he should come back over in the summertime, when the local fair was in town, since he had never been to a fair before, and James was already promising to bring my father to a Quidditch game. None of my other friends were this chummy with my parents — in fact, most of them had never even met them, and if they had, it was fleetingly. In fact, as we were walking in the door and my mum went to show James the guest room, my father pulled me aside and said:

"James seems like a really great bloke. I'm glad to finally get to know and talk to one of your friends from school," He patted me on the shoulder. "You know, we worry about you, Lils."

"Worry that I'm a social pariah with no friends?" I grinned, putting my arm around my dad's shoulder.

He laughed. "Oh no, we've never had to worry about that with you. You've got The Gift."

I frowned, confused. "The gift? You mean, magic?"

He shook his head. "No, no. Well, I suppose it's similar to magic in that it's undefinable in a way, but no — that's not what I mean. You've got The Gift. People are drawn to you, they — they see something in you that makes them want to befriend you. When people talk to you, they want to keep talking. You light up the room when you walk in. Like I said, it's hard to define exactly, but you've got it for sure."

"Like...charisma?"

"Sort of. But different in a way. Ever since you were a little girl, you just-you've been able to naturally befriend everyone around you. You had a way of making the bullied feel important and valued, and making the bullies change their ways to try to meet your expectations of people. I've never met anyone else who connects with others and feels for them and with them the way that you do."

"Thanks, Dad, but I don't know," I sighed, "I haven't felt that way recently, I feel like...like I'm becoming this constantly edgy, emotional person. I feel like I'm no fun to be around at all."

"You're going through a lot right now," My dad said, squeezing my shoulder. "But that doesn't change who you are. Don't ever forget that, Lily. Don't ever let anyone make you feel like less than you are. Even and especially if it's someone you love." I saw him glance warily towards Petunia's bedroom, and I felt my eyes well up with tears. I pulled him into a tight hug.

"Thanks, dad," I whispered.

"Wouldn't say it if it wasn't true," He said, patting me on the back. "But we do worry sometimes. We know it's dangerous times, and can't help but imagining you there, all alone...it's just nice to be able to see and know that someone is there looking out for you."

"Yeah," I exhaled as James bounded down the stairs with a look of pure amazement on his face, my mother standing somewhat behind him, smiling.

"Lily! In my room there's a — what's it called?" He asked, turning to my mother.

"A television," She responded, smiling broader.

"Yes, that's it! A television. How brilliant!" He continued grinning, and my mother looked absolutely pleased with herself for having a guest who was so completely impressed by our modest, Muggle way of living.

"Ahem." We all turned to look at Petunia, who was standing a few feet away from us, clearing her throat. "Shouldn't we be cleaning up the kitchen?"

I looked at her, confused, but my mum seemed to know precisely what she meant. "Oh, yes, of course!" She turned to my dad. "Dear, would you go down to the market and pick up some French bread? I wanted to wait until today so it would be fresh. One loaf should be plenty, but maybe get two just in case."

"Not a problem, love," My dad replied, kissing my mum on the cheek and walking out the door.

"Er...what's going on?" I asked thickly, as my mum rushed to the kitchen to grab some pots and pans from beneath the stove.

"Vernon's family is coming over for dinner tonight!" My mom yelled from the kitchen.

"...oh," I said, unable to feign enthusiasm. I looked at James, and then back to the kitchen. "Er...well, James and I are both really tired —"

"I'm fine," James replied, and I elbowed him in the side. "Oh. I mean — er — yeah. Tired." He faked a yawn. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, I think it's probably best for us to sit this one out," I tried to sound as diplomatic as I possibly could, but my mum wasn't letting us off the hook.

"Oh, well, why don't you two go upstairs and get some rest, and then come down when dinner is ready? Petunia and I can take care of preparing, we don't need you down here."

"But, Mum —"

"Lily, this is very important to Petunia," She admonished, nodding in the direction of Petunia, who looked very much like she couldn't care less. "Now go upstairs. They should be here in a couple of hours."

With a deep exhale, I turned towards the staircase and trudged towards the top, heading directly to my room and flopping face-first on the bed. Moments later, I heard a tentative knock on the door.

"Yeah?" I called, not bothering to lift my head from the pillow.

I heard the door creak open. "Hey," James' voice came from the doorway. Immediately, I sat up.

"Hey, come in," I said, my voice a little bit higher than normal. He strode into my room, looking around. I looked around with tim, trying to imagine what my room must be like through James' eyes, wincing a little bit at how childish it must have seemed. A lot of it hadn't changed since I was a little girl-really, it had practically remained stagnant since I was 11 and started spending most of my time at Hogwarts. My room was still the same faint mint-green color that my dad painted it when I was born, with a cream lace border around the top of the room. My bookshelf stood in the corner, overstuffed and attempting to break free from the shelf constraints. There were still a few china dolls sitting on the shelves high up around my room, their small, painted-on faces coated in a thin layer of dust. The only thing that had really changed was the few pictures of me with my Hogwarts friends that were strewn about the room. They didn't move, in case a relative or friend from town happened to come into my room. I liked them that way, though.

James seemed to be really taking everything in, as he paced around my room, eventually sitting gingerly on the edge of my bed. Smiling, I sat down next to him.

"This is brilliant," he said softly.

"What is?" I looked around my room, searching for what he was talking about.

"Your room, it's just...fascinating."

I wrinkled my nose. "Fascinating how?"

"No, it's just...you. It just looks like you. But then at the same time, it's like-a window into who you were. It's-it's just really...it's nice."

I chuckled, looking down. "Well, after the wedding's over, I can show you around town, too, if you'd like."

James' face fell. "I'd–I would love to, Lily, but...I have to go home pretty soon after the wedding. Like, right away, actually."

"Oh," I replied, disappointment seeping in. "Okay."

"Lily," he began quickly, "it's–I wish I could stay."

"No, it's fine," I said with a smile. "I'm–I'm just glad you could come at all. I'm sure there are people you want to see and things you want to do at home."

He shifted, looking down. Immediately, I felt a sense of dread. "James...what's the matter?"

Not looking up, he murmured. "It's...well...nevermind."

"James?" I asked softly, not wanting to push him too much.

"It's...look, it's...my–" he paused, and exhaled. "My mum is sick."

My face fell. "What do you mean?"

He inhaled deeply. "The healers at St. Mungo's aren't-they don't know what's wrong, so they-er...they," James looked like he was beginning to choke back tears. "They, um, sent her home."

Immediately, I pulled James into a tight embrace, and I could feel his lungs expanding and collapsing as he tried to gain control of his breath.

"James..." I breathed against his shoulder. "I'm so, so sorry." He moved his head so that it rested in the crook of my shoulder and neck.

After a moment, I spoke again. "James, you–you don't have to stay for the wedding." He pulled away from me slowly.

"I want to," he said plainly.

"Look, I can...you really don't need to-"

"I want to," he insisted, "I...I promised I would and I don't want you to deal with this alone-and honestly, Lily-" he looked at me. "I've been looking forward to this since you asked me. I–I want to be here for you. I'll go home right after, but I want to be here. Now. With you."

I looked at his face and could see the conflict he felt written into his skin and I wanted to cry and to thank him and hold him and make his pain go away.

And then, before I could realize what I was doing, my lips were on him. I was kissing him. It only lasted a moment before I felt his body completely freeze, his face still and unmoving against mine. Quickly, I pulled away and saw that his eyes were wide and his jaw was slightly unhinged.

"I'm, I'm sorry, James, I shouldn't–" and immediately, like a switch was flipped, James sprang into action, his hands reaching towards either side of my face and his lips meeting mine again, but this time they were warm and moving enthusiastically, and his hands were moving to my hair. My own hands, almost acting of their own accord, began moving up his chest, feeling the softness of his shirt and the warmth of his skin. His lips smiled against mine, and with his lips still moving fervently, his hands moved from my hair down to the small of my back. And then his tongue brushed softly against my bottom lip and I heard myself moan embarassingly loud.

Then there was an ill-timed knock at the door, and we immediately jumped apart.

"Yeah?" I called out, a little too loudly.

"Vernon and his family are on the way!" My mom's voice rang out. "Make sure you and James are up and ready."

James and I turned to each other and grinned.

"Don't worry, mum," I called out in response. "We're both awake."


End file.
